"Somewhere", spoke the grey lips in the wall. Somewhere before sunrise, before the first bird crows to dawn and the apathetic are yet to uncurl the grit that gathers like dust between the fold of shallow eyes. "Somewhere". A derogatory term. Their humanity bears no resemblance to us as skin and bone the only price to pay for "unpeople". Cities made of paper, soaked in a drought. Somewhere East. Or maybe South? Somewhere far from the guilt that laden our stomach with lead. So alien to home, allotted just enough frames for you to feel how fortuitous; but not enough so the screams swallow your evening meal and you swat the sound of flies pouring through the static of your transient box.