The now quiet road that led to Duncaster was torn to pieces by the elements. Grass filled the labyrinth of cracks and sand covered whatever was left. Dust and debris littered the roads within town while unkempt gardens are cluttered with forsaken possessions.
Many doorways still stood tall and in some cases it was one of the few things left of a home. But most doors were completely gone and only remnants of rotten wood were left behind. Dry rot, vines and other undesired vegetation had taken the place of paint on most buildings and created their own kind of decoration.
Duncaster, once nothing more than a simple, quiet town had become a forgotten relic of the past. Bird songs, animals rustling in the bushes and trees and the various animal sounds from stray pets and other wild animals had taken the place of the sounds of a bustling community.
The main hotel has had a few esteemed guests over the years, but it was now decrepit and starting to collapse bit by bit. A few animals still dare to wander here, but most wisely stay away from the fragile walls.
No matter how many animals made their home in this town now you couldn't help but be overcome with loneliness. Life had not just come to a halt, it had completely disappeared. But there was an odd sense of harmony as nature reclaimed what was theirs and resettled an old balance.