Once there was a wall. 30 years old and 100 km tall. The city's street veins and building breasts were in twain, and her eyes bricked and shuttered. Her heart pumped petrol and red, and her pulse was drowned in secrets. Trauma and decadence ravaged across her skin as she was abused by power and loved by anarchy. Her body suffered as did the ones buried deep within her. With each rumble, the graves crumbled and the bones sifted into different skeletons. No one could connect to who they once or ever were anymore.
The city wailed and cried. Her people listened and pushed against her border and tunneled deep within her. The wall was ripped down, and she was free but broken. She called out to the world, and it sent forth its waves of legends. The oldest ones buried in sand and morass. The people arrived, and, with them, the jigsawed city found solace in her pieces. But her fury breeds and multiplies in the human theater.
-and this is where we are now.
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