by Janet Schroeder
There are vial little monsters roaming the narrow halls of that ghost town dump. The good jobs crossed the border so the modern citizens are degenerate leftovers, poor uneducated shells of their close ancestors. They wear t-shirts for every occasion and utter profane, limited vocabulary in sentence fragments. So sad to admit these earthlings are the countrymen of one nation. The television must go, as should most internet connections, before a healing can begin.