An encyclopedia of once-common things passing us by.

(You can buy the lovely book version too.)

 

 

From Invisible Paris: Eulogy for the Phone Booth: It’s still standing. Somehow. There’s not a shard of glass left on the structure and the doors were removed a long time ago. It’s no longer a shelter, no longer a square metre of space you could go to talk without distractions and yet it is still functional. Pick up the receiver and after a silent second the repetitive purr of the dial tone still sounds in your ear. Listen carefully though and you’ll hear the final breaths of the condemned. The booth knows that it is finished, carrying a sickness that nobody wants to treat. Soon it will be taken away and buried.

From Invisible Paris: Eulogy for the Phone Booth:

It’s still standing. Somehow. There’s not a shard of glass left on the structure and the doors were removed a long time ago. It’s no longer a shelter, no longer a square metre of space you could go to talk without distractions and yet it is still functional. Pick up the receiver and after a silent second the repetitive purr of the dial tone still sounds in your ear. Listen carefully though and you’ll hear the final breaths of the condemned. The booth knows that it is finished, carrying a sickness that nobody wants to treat. Soon it will be taken away and buried.