I have recently come to realize the once fenced up and abandoned little village town I’ve passed close to some hundreds of times over the years is not entirely encircled by unflatteringly bright blue enclosures, but is hindered only sparsely. There is something eerily charming about a dank and decrepit little village branching out an arm from the city. The wind howls through the drainpipes, careless to displace the leaves. The isolation is inviting by day, and repulsive by nightfall – save the brave and careless few who venture out at these exclusive hours. Aside from the fresh few looks, I had narrowly spared a glance to the caved in garages and weather-torn paint.