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.