I live among the Forgotten, camped outside the city walls. We live off discarded remnants - as that's what the Insiders consider us.
A trans person sits at a folding table with pieces of sliced cheese. The person was both curiously grateful and angry as I walked by, saying:
"How does one drowning person ask another drowning person for help?"
Within the walls the last pretenses of law have disappeared. Nothing must stand in the way of the Greed religion. So we graffiti the wall with our love.
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