beedingwood | following the footsteps of john harris

Finally we reached the round room. With its mud floor, and curious construction, it acted like a magnet; we were drawn to it; as were artists, vandals, graffiti sprayers, drunks, lovers and Satanists.

The room was deadly. Two pigeons flapped around its domed ceiling, frightened by our presence, panicking into bounding off the fragile ceiling plaster and tiles. This was my only attempt at a shot, fearful that they’d bring the whole structure down.

I again pined for a safety hat. Then I could’ve thrown it at them.

Looking at the shape of the ceiling and its construction, I could only conclude that this was the ‘Trivial Pur- suit’ room.