This is what remains of a library. As far as the eye can see are books. The floor is barely visible, and as I walked through these rooms I had little choice but to tread on these books.
I spent some time here reading, and was impressed at the variety and quality of the books. I even saw a book that was signed in ink by Lenin himself. It was a book on botany, and it lay in a small pile of books on mathematics and physics. I thought that here were all of the contradictions, all of the beauty and all of the failures of this place printed and discarded on the floor. They all lay open and waiting to be read, but were instead left alone to rot.
This was the last room I visited in this town called Pripyat.