↳ 1136 Monmouth was a hungry-looking brick factory, gutted and black-eyed, growing out of an overgrown lot that took up nearly all of a block. And everywhere, everywhere, there were books. Not the tidy stacks of an intellectual attempting to impress, but the slumping piles of a scholar obsessed.
BANGLADESH, Khulna : In this photograph taken on January 18, 2016, a
Bangladeshi worker carries bricks at a brick factory on the outskirts of
Khulna some 266kms south of Dhaka. Very few of the brick kilns in
Bangladesh - approximately 7,000, according to government estimates –
have been constructed following proper design and environmental rules,
according to experts. And the consequences have been devastating as
brick kilns are the largest source of greenhouse gases in Bangladesh, so
much so that the smoke spewed out by them has been identified as one of
the main factors behind the worsening quality of air in the country.
AFP PHOTO/ Munir uz ZAMAN
AFGHANISTAN, JALAL-ABAD : Afghan siblings take a break as they work at a traditional brick factory on the outskirts of Jalalabad in Nangarhar province on January 25, 2014. The thousands of neatly-stacked sandy bricks baked in these coal-fired ovens are in high demand in the capital and across Afghanistan, as the country tries to rebuild after three decades of conflict. AFP PHOTO/Noorullah Shirzada
AFGHANISTAN, Mazar-i-Sharif - This photograph taken on April
6, 2016 shows Afghan labourers working at a brick factory on the
outskirts Mazar-i-Sharif. Afghanistan remains one of the poorest
countries in the world, with nearly half the population estimated to be
living below the poverty line. / AFP PHOTO / Farshad USYAN
Our destination was a red brick factory with a massive sliding metal door locked shut by a coil of chain. Both the chain and door had rusted so much that I expected that neither offered any use.
Because of course you can’t enter the hideout through the door! That would be boring.
The size of the door and the broadness of the driveway made me think that large trucks or small boats would have been backed up through the entryway back in the factory’s heyday.
Hopefully the boats would actually fit.
The building itself was large, stretching nearly half the block, two or three stories tall. The background of the sign at the top of the building had faded from red to a pale orange-pink, but I could make out the bold white letters that read ‘Redmond Welding’.
That could work as a human name. “My name is Redmond Welding; nice to meet you.”