As something of an artist in my early years, I delighted in taking crayon to butcher's paper like a madman with my tongue hanging out the side of my mouth. The subject, crudely drawn rockets and spacecraft that even adorn a plate I made in grade 1 that my proud mother displays on the kitchen wall. The next door neighbours took a holiday in the USA and returned bearing gifts - a navy blue baseball cap emblazoned with NASA in bold red stitching. I wore that cap to the brink of disintegration.
twinky-z and I sat upon a rusty gate staring vacantly down a rough asphalt road that veered not an inch far as the eye could see. It split the swamps neatly in two under a cloudy winter sky. Into the distance rotting power poles line the road, like a dead army of withered old men waiting for a good break in traffic. A chill wind spurred us to action and we dropped from the gate and began the hike. Our skateboards were sacrificed early to the Swamp Gods, deemed horribly inefficient upon the bombed out asphalt.
Removed from civilization we marched clear minded and relaxed through the marsh. The tall marsh plants rustled in the breeze and I forgot how tired I really was. On two hours sleep we'd boarded a 5am flight, missed our connection, been bumped to first class, arrived 4 hours late into Florida, lost our drivers license, sweet talked the car hire place, gotten lost, gotten found and finally arrived at the one road in the entire world we wanted to be. A white vehicle grew from a speck in the distance and approached slowly. We'd walked passed two locked gates and this was pretty odd, however he just rolled on by. We're happy to share our road to nowhere, our seemingly post-apocalyptic world for just a moment.
After a mile we reached the main cluster of buildings, the primary research site. It was loosely guarded by rocks and rusty wire. Local kids had braved these security measures and tagged the rooftops long ago. In this marshy wilderness the dozen buildings stood decayed and silent but for the birds and wildlife who had come to reclaim their lands. We pressed on.
As the cluster shrunk behind us a single outline on the horizon grew larger and larger. Over the next 3.5 miles the corrugations upon the roof became visible and slowly the harsh shape of a solitary shed grew bold. The long weeds overflow from cracked concrete and sheet metal roofing littered the ground as we approached the shed. The spacious interior is barren but for scrap metal and discarded relics of the US space program. A suspicious checkerplate circle 60ft in diameter fills the center of the floor. This is what we'd come for.