We looked at the newspaper for Weeping Waters yesterday, and saw a proud new town on the rise. How are things going now?

Well . . .

It’s as if one is subsuming the other.

Watch that first step, it’s a doozy

The door on the left is raised because . . .

. . . because?

Gambles! Good Lord, Gambles?

Is this the last one left on earth?

Handsome pair.

“I wonder why the second floor isn’t renting. Is there something we missed?”

Many signs of the IOOF.

You wonder if the rest of the original facade remains behind that immense overhang.

Occupied storefront, though, so that’s good.

The telephone companies were signs of great pride. The strings that tied the town to the world.

If it was a bank, it’s been a not-bank longer than it was.

The tiny signs of a classical heritage.

I’d like to have a serious talk with whoever did this.

I’d like to press charges.

I wonder if it was painted a variety of colors.

Here we enter chapter 3 of a Stephen King novel:

Churches ought not weep rust.

And that’s what Weeping Waters looks like today.