Looking down from the upstairs landing, the stairwell of the Terminus Hotel forms a tight spiral of hardwood and shadow.
Each tread is worn and textured with age, with carpet clinging in thinning patches beneath flakes of old paint. The balustrade, carved and weathered, carries the eye in a slow descent to the dim foyer below. A lone toy peeks out near the base, barely visible against the dark timber floor.
It’s a space shaped by countless footsteps, quiet now but still steeped in the movement of years past.
This intimate perspective is reproduced on museum-grade archival paper, offering timeless detail and subtle depth in every curve and texture.