So I wasn’t wrong all along the line of thought, the new developments, the crammped spaces in designated areas. Self sufficiency had taken to new highs, we were becoming population heavy the undertakers couldn’t cope in the middle of civil unrest, the council couldn’t cope to the reaction, to their planning, unfinished housing, shit spinning in empty cement mixers. Everyone now did smell and the dying were dead, so came to pass the small oblong buildings.
They were between the once bright flats they housed the dead where undertakers feared to tread, this is new Britain, civil destruction society torn and burning a government in retreat MP had fled to hide this country in mutinous madness evil is the mistress
of the turgid toilet of a country where manners ( manners) is the name of a house.
