As we continued into the upper floors of the ward, I was amazed at all that I had somehow missed over the years of visiting the other buildings there. While the lower floor was a clutter of antiquated equipment, it was more spread out the further up you went. The second floor was damp from flooding and scattered with bird skeletons, and rotting patient clothing. The wind continued to whip the windows and shake them as if a patient was outside trying to get in. We stayed a while and I shot what I could and left the place, saying goodbye one last time to the asylum that started our journey.
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