IT WAS the most depressing afternoon since Kanu stuck out a foot and Pompey lifted the FA Cup.

Traipsing around as a photographer’s assistant, documenting the rash of empty shops spreading like a virus across Southampton is not a task for the emotionally fragile.

Each of these husks is a broken dream. Behind every locked door and peeling notice is months and years of hard work, sweat and hope that came to nought.

As the minutes turned to hours, the tragic scale of the blight on our high streets became apparent.

It’s not all bad - some areas of the city are in rude health.

Confounding expectations, Shirley High Street reveals itself well placed to weather the economic slump. It’s a bustling mix of independent traders (incidentally including a staggering number of Polish delis) with busy pavements and a lively feel.

Similarly, Bedford Place is riding the storm with aplomb. But venture to the southern end of the centre that locals call Below Bar and the picture gets considerably bleaker. And that’s before you’ve taken an all too rare peak through the doors of either of the so-called shopping centres down there.

It’s best not even to mention Woolston or Bevois Valley, both of which are suffering an agonising death by a thousand cuts.

The soaring rate of closures – 165 per cent and counting – is unlikely to turn itself around any time soon, what with even the most starry-eyed optimist giving it 18 months before we see an upturn.

These ghost shops haunt the precincts and centres where they rust and rot. Where once they bought life, footfall, colour and cash now they hang around an area’s neck like a graffiti spattered millstone, dragging it down and driving people away.

It’s a snowball effect. As shops close, so the appeal of a centre is slashed, discouraging shoppers and pushing remaining traders ever closer to the brink.

Then the charity shops move in, swiftly followed by the tumbleweed.

It’s not just a problem for business. Whole communities are left bereft of everything from a focal point to a friendly place to pick up a pint of milk and a paper.

Yes, the rampant recession has played its part. But many of those clawed down were already eking out an existence on a pretty thin financial gruel.

Is it, I wonder, mere coincidence that Tesco is Southampton’s biggest shopkeeper?

The vast retailer bestrides this city like a blue and white striped colossus. Over the last few years, it has tightened its grip on Southampton’s wallet immeasurably and now boasts 20 stores in and immediately around the city boundaries. That’s twice as many as rival cities like Portsmouth.

You’ll have heard the incredible statistic that one in every eight pounds spent in a British shop is spent in a Tesco. But what is its take in Southampton? Considerably higher, I’ll bet.

And, crucially, every pound swallowed-up by the blue and white maw is one not spent in your withering high street.

Now, more than at any time ever before, people must make a choice and live with the consequences.

Where you do your weekly shop could dictate nothing less than the future health and vitality of your community.

If you buy Tesco, then that is pretty much all you will be left with. That and the tumbleweed on your doorstep.