I travel through all these places and rarely see anyone at work. I see the sites as they were left when the whistle blew on the previous Friday. Equipment parked, lights off and left to wait for the workers return on Monday morning. And upon my return, I see the same; Equipment parked and lights off. I see what is meant to be and what was, but I rarely see what is.
The marshlands of Jersey look peaceful, juxtaposed against the factories, bridges and highways that were built in them and around them. With the rising eastern Sun framing the entire scene, a ghostly image is created that mocks our modernity, as we mock the beauty of the natural world.
I sit at a desk in a windowless office with four other employees, in an office building that saw its prime pass over twenty years ago. Very little of it is occupied on a regular basis. An emptiness permeates portions of it…sections are dark and ignored. And walking into those areas feels as if you are entering another world, one where the life was taken without any notice or fanfare. Everything just…ended.
Listening to a pair of gentleman, who appear to work together, talking in the seats behind me. It amazes me how freely they talk in such a public environment. Have I unwittingly become a member of some secret club? Is there some unwritten law of traveling in Business Class, that all information is confidential and does not leave Business Class? I am not sure that I want to be a member…and no one even bothered to tell me what the dues cost….