Light cuts across the landing of the Terminus Hotel, casting long shadows from the stairwell railing onto the worn carpet.
Against the far wall, one of the original guest room dressers sits alone, its drawers marked by graffiti and time. The once-polished wood is dulled by decades of dust, while the surrounding plaster bears the scars of peeled paint and past visitors. Graffiti clings faintly to the wall above, a contrast to the otherwise subdued decay.
These upper levels held moments of quiet retreat from the hum of the bar below, now remembered only in fragments like this.
Printed with museum-grade inks on archival fine art paper, this image invites reflection on the layered stillness and personal echoes of a forgotten space.