← ArchiveESCTYPE / 02
After Us
No machine yet. Forty years of forest, growing through a building nobody will enter again.
The fairground never opened. The G-Class is its first visitor in decades.
Everything here was switched off long ago. The charger was not.
The control room, dark. Then the headlights, and for a second the panels seem to answer.
The butterflies own the place now. They do not mind the car.
Dinner for two, in the only clothes that make sense here.
End of ESCTYPE / 02
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