The summers were full of screams and shouts of glee. Huge steel goliaths spinning and racing in blurs of color. The smell of pop-corn and pizza and dip and dots fragranting the the air. There were people having the time of their lives for a short while. They came from miles around just for a short bit of adrenaline fueled ecstasy.
Then a storm came, it blew its winds and and raged with rain and thunder and lightning and tidal waves. The people ran for their lives. They left the park behind. To rust, to get taken back into nature. Or so the story goes.
Generationals
Victim of Trap (footage of abandoned six flags in New Orleans after Katrina)
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