Abandoned Factory

Asher came to town for two seconds and in those two seconds I ditched work so we could tromp out to the abandoned factory in Yonkers. It was Asher, Jason, and me. We brought various recording devices to capture this momentous and historic moment in its entirety, but I fucked up and didn’t charge the camera all the way.

It was a good adventure anyway.

We spent the whole while trying to get to the smoke stacks. We got inside them the last time, but now we couldn’t figure out how. We climbed up to the roof and saw some little middle school girls with big teeth and flip flops wandering around among the broken glass and twisted metal. We had just smoke a joint and were giggly as hell, so it was real difficult to hide from them, Asher throwing pebbles every now and then to make them look around confused. We’d duck down quick, stifle our giggles then look up to see them try to figure out where the rocks were falling from. Finally we let them see us, but instantly regretted it because it would have been great to haunt them the whole time.

They were annoying little kids, so we ignored them when they tried to talk to us and instead balanced along and did our perfect and graceful high wire act along the catwalks and steel support beams. The cool kids—that was us.

Finally we found the stairs that lead us to the smoke stacks. Inside those huge brick columns is what I imagine it’s like inside a crematorium. A round, hollow dungeon of brick, miles to the little window open to the sky up top, and exed over with a cold metal grate.