Well, we’ll be the judge of that. Population: 288 souls.

I’ve never seen a gas station converted into a pig lot. Let alone MOM'S pig lot.

Well, a failed pig lot.

That’s the front.

I wonder what it used to be. The roof indicates . . . a theater? Those third-story dark spots previously held chains attached to the marquee?

“Once the dimensional portals opened up, the town population dropped by half. Folks just thought it was a shortcut to the woods. T’wasn’t."

“Some other folk, they saw this one for what it was, a door into a strange world with a purple sun and intelligent beings who floated through the air. We sent one man in with a rope tied around him so’s we could pull him back if he tugged on it, but the rope fell slack the moment he went through."

“Now and then they’ll send a craft through to our side. It just drives around. No one can see in the windows.”

This doesn’t look bad. Old and falling apart, but it has a certain small-town charm.

Blurry picture, though. Does that mean . . .

Ah, still there.

Perhaps they built this in two phases, and incorporated the complaints of the workers. Can’t see in here! Too damned dark!

“We had that hail of frogs back in 96, and the damned things sat on the roof and rotted. Smelled like hell. Not going to go through that again."

"Next time they'll just roll right off."

I don’t think downtown’s coming back.

I don’t think it was ever there.

Welcome to the Aleister Crowley Community Center:

Old general store. Wonder if the son took it over, and he was the last.

When your newest building is an self-serve car wash, you’re not looking at a booming commercial environment.

And that, my friends, is Delight.