The Architecture of Dust
The Great Landfill was not a place, but a horizon. It was a mountain range of rusted steel, shattered plastic, and the calcified remains of a billion forgotten desires. For the people who lived in the crevices of the waste, survival was a matter of geometry: knowing which slope wouldn't collapse and which scrap of copper could be traded for a liter of grey water. Ray was a man of habits. Every...
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