Few years of absence and this whole place looks worn-down, abandoned, broken. Yet maybe that’s what makes it worthwhile. It’s not the shiny, glamourous, polished place which takes all the effort one can bring up to be kept in this state. It’s rather a sanctuary indeed. A place which is just there. A place where things don’t have to be perfect. A place where things don’t need meaning to justify their existence. A place in which a single broken window is not the beginning of everything falling apart but just evidence of things being in flux, constantly changing. It’s this kind of change that covered whatever used to be here in dirt and dust.
Pausing for a moment, he decides to leave things just like that. It just seems fine. The way it is.