Everybody's Gone To Rapture On HD 4400

<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.youtube.com/vi/PzI5fyIJajo/maxresdefault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://img.youtube.com/vi/PzI5fyIJajo/maxresdefault.jpg" width="450"></a></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Deep within the Shropshire countryside, the village of Yaughton stands empty. Toys lie forgotten in the playground, the wind blows quarantine leaflets around the silent churchyard. Down on Appleton’s farm, crops rustle untended. The birds lie where they have fallen. <br> Strange voices haunt the radio waves as uncollected washing hangs listlessly on the line. The televisions are tuned to vacant channels. Above it all, the telescopes of the Observatory point out at dead stars and endless darkness. And someone remains behind, to try and unravel the mystery.</span> </div></div></div></div>

Everybody's Gone To Rapture On HD 4400

Deep within the Shropshire countryside, the village of Yaughton stands empty. Toys lie forgotten in the playground, the wind blows quarantine leaflets around the silent churchyard. Down on Appleton’s farm, crops rustle untended. The birds lie where they have fallen. Strange voices haunt the radio w…

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