beedingwood | following the footsteps of john harris

The floor was strangely clean; exempt from tiles, plasterwork and bricks. Someone, at some point, had cleaned the place; probably to rob more of its substance, chucked into the back of a waiting pickup. However, broken pieces of stonework, delicately carved with a plant motif, lay conspicuously in the mud. What architectural gems! All left to rot.