I can't even guess how many times I whispered to myself, "Wow......".
Trevelyn kept saying "Apocalypse". Seemed completely appropriate.
Oil trucks from the forties or fifties.
Shacks with tar paper roofs....
and bright-blue painted livingrooms... with cardboard acting as drywall or plaster.
Bicycles lying on their sides, waiting for their fourteen-year-old ghostriders.
Are you getting the feel of the place?
Only long, lonely howls are living in this town, now.