There is a valley in Pennsylvania that few roads find, where all the barns are falling down. Not some, or a lot, or even most. All the barns are falling down. Some were once huge, some were little more than sheds, but they were all tipped over, dilapidated, and in ruins.
I stopped to take pictures, but every time I raised my camera I was overcome with dread. There was something wrong. Something there that should not be recorded. Something evil was in those barns. Something that was dying, and should not be removed, even in pictures.
I tried approaching a few houses where I saw people watching me through clenched curtains. I waved as I walked up their drives, but all except one old woman shut the curtains and would not answer the door. The old woman waved back, but then also shut her curtains and would not answer the door.
So I left the creepy little valley to it’s inflictions. Left the frightened people. Left whatever was in those barns. Left them to die.