I often gravitate toward things that are distressed or decaying, so I couldn’t resist this abandoned greenhouse/roadside market called Farmer’s Daughter in Hammonton. Though you can’t see it in this photo, there was a tear in the plastic tarp covering part of the building, so that anyone—say, a homeless junkie, rabid animal, zombie, curious
victim photographer—could enter. I mention zombies because a) both the exterior and the interior of the place had a sort of post-apocalyptic feel, like it had been deserted in a hurry, and b) I have an overactive imagination.
Inside there were neat stacks of apple baskets beside trash-filled shopping carts, empty refrigerator and Coke cases, and long tables loaded with a strange assortment of discarded items—underneath which would make the perfect place for a zombie to repose. Wooden signs still hung on the wall advertising tomatoes, peas, sweet corn, and brains.
However, I did not fear being attacked because, if I learned anything from watching “Thriller” 17,383 times, it’s that zombies only come out at night in flash mobs.