Some people have made a hobby of exploring abandoned warehouses and industrial sites.
There is something melancholic about these old buildings/houses. A faded grandeur, a real sense of loss.
“The Ruins of Detroit” (2005- ) (image from thestapleton.com). Photographer Kyle Fleischhaker
Remember as a kid coming upon some ruin and wondering what used to be. In the woods near my house were several dilapidated farmhouses—abandoned since a proposed bypass 675 was soon to be constructed. The houses were all scheduled for demolition. Unless, of course, they just collapsed all by their self.
I can still recall the strips of ancient peeling wallpaper, roses faded into the weathered and aged paper, until the image is barely visible. A soiled mattress in the corner, stinking of urine and mouse infestation. The wind-swept corners piled with litter=remains=the midden* of life left behind—a forgotten doll; a cheap plastic toy; a chipped tea cup; a dress wet, now dried, a stiff mound not resembling anything.
*From Wikipedia: A midden (also kitchen midden or shell heap; from early Scandinavian; Danish: mødding, Swedish regional: mödding) is an old dump for domestic waste which may consist of animal bone, human excrement, botanical material, vermin, shells, sherds, lithics (especially debitage), and other artifacts and ecofacts associated with past human occupation. The word is of Scandinavian via Middle English derivation, but is used by archaeologists worldwide to describe any kind of feature containing waste products relating to day-to-day human life.
Write about a ruin in your own life.