Whereas sometimes we arrive to a trash out and find massive mountains of trash, every once in a while we come across a place that looks as if the occupant simply disappeared. You get a strange glimpse into a stranger’s existence, and odd facts are gleaned. I found this house, where the previous occupant was a smoker and a graphic designer; liked Red Hots and The Beatles; collected glass figurines. Here are some shots from that house.
This box sat in the closet.
Cases like this one offer the most voyeuristic glimpses into others’ lives.
The walls and ceilings were stained yellow from years of this.
I always find it fascinating to see what people choose to leave behind. DId the sheriff arrive to evict them in the middle of the night, with no warning? Is their new place too small for all this stuff? Or have they used foreclosure as a chance to be reborn, without the weight of old things dragging them down? I never find the answer.
These cards were all in a set, in the basement.
This junk drawer appears to be untouched.
A workspace in the basement.
Getting the boot.
The kitchen was neater than my own.
