Ghost Towns
The Forgotten Class Of The Fading City
She’s just escaped from her job for yet another day and she’s thirsty for something. Not the coffee she’s been selling all day long, no, but rather something that will sate the feeling of fraudulence and deceit that she has steeped in for the last eight hours. She’s going to walk home instead of taking the train.
If, she thinks, you can call it success to live from one paycheck to the next, the biweekly slip of thermal paper handed her by her masters the only true distinction between her and the miserable parodies clustered around these alleys, hobo bags and bindlestiffs, old cans in crude semblance of top hats.
She looks them over as she goes by, thinking at first that it’s impolite to stare, but then realizing that these people have long stopped caring if they’re looked over. Any look at all carries with it the possibility of a dime or a nickel and is worth enduring for that reason alone. Besides, she only wants to look.
Funny how they all seem to belong to one tribe when their manner of dress and appearance varies so wildly. Look at that fellow there in the patchwork business suit. He used to trade blue chip stocks. Look at that lady with all the bags and girls sweatshirts. Those sweatshirts used to be her daughter’s, when her daughter was young.
Here’s another interesting sight: the old man who sits slumped against the wall. Try to see beyond the wall. Just a few feet behind his sweaty back, people are still hanging on, are still getting it done, are still doing business, are still selling their antique engagement rings and cell phones. The game is still going on for them.
In spite of it all, she smiles as she steps to the edge of the sidewalk and throws up her hand in the bell sleeve and hails a taxi to take her off to the ‘better’ parts of the sprawl, away from the awkward reminders of how close she herself is to the edge, the gulf, the chasm which yawns open under the great city.
And this is how it is the world over, from one city to the next. The division between those who are getting along and those who have lost their foothold is a fine one, but it is a step from which most will never recover once they fall down it. Will you live under the shackles of wage slavery a day longer? It is time to consider alternatives.
China’s Ghost Cities
Tags: abandoned, ghost, ghost towns, ghost towns in arizona, ghost towns in california, ghost towns in china, ghost towns in southern california, history, photography, travel
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