Devils Phalanxgrdesad

 

The road that led to and from Streatham was now indistinguishable from the surrounding landscape. The wind gently sways the tall grasses in the abandoned gardens while wild bushes make their claim on every acre not taken by the grass.

Most doors still stood in their frames as if nothing had changed. A few were ajar for one reason or another, perhaps left open in a hurry. Many walls and balconies had collapsed. Without proper maintenance and cleaning it was easy for rot and water to do their damage.


Streatham, once a hub of modern housing and technological developments had all but faded away from history. The wind in the trees and the creaking of wood were the new dominant sounds in a once lively community rich in sounds of joy and simple pleasures.

Noble men and women were once called upon from the fire station, ready to save whoever needed saving. Unfortunately this town couldn't be saved. Funnily enough it was mostly cats that had made this station their home.


You couldn't help but feel lost in this town now, even if you knew exactly where you were. It was a lonely place with only distant memories of what once was. But even when all the buildings are finally taken by nature there was at least the knowledge that the animals wouldn't have to leave and could continue their lives in peace.

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