Silent Screams of Oblivion

• Photographer
  Francis Meslet
• Prize
  Silver in Architecture / Industrial

They all went there very early each morning and we only saw them coming back late each night. The factory, this space and time where every day legions of fathers, brothers, neighbours, friends disappeared... and as children we listened out for their footsteps on the basement stairs. Right on time for supper. The factory, a totally abstract universe for a child who needed a great deal of imagination to get an idea of it. A dark silhouette outside the city, roaring, coughing up its grey smoke to which access was strictly forbidden.