Collection: LCQNF 2

That small town with winding roads forgotten by civilization. It carries with it the ghosts of some religion, some factory abandoned by man, and vestiges of humanity that from time to time dare to walk through it, but never remove the dust from it. Like some old passers-by, no matter whether they are young or old, they are always old. They repeat the same customs, walk the same streets, experience the same forgetfulness, fears and half-certainties. That small town that thinks it is being built, when in reality it is falling apart. It still scares me when I remember it. In the passage of time.