one | voice, cell phone

[elfstoned]

My name is Strider. I run a small clinic just south of the Dead District.

It's the brick building with the broken sign that says LSR. You can't miss it.

Not exactly inspiring, I know. But it's clean, and I'm licensed -- which is more than you can say for most doctors you can afford without insurance.

[A pause.]

Many strange things have been happening lately.

If you come to me, I won't ask questions.

Comments

[argents]

Seems dangerous. The news keeps talking about someone trying to buy the area.

[elfstoned]

I've heard. It won't happen -- or if it does, nothing will come of it. Nothing ever does.

[argents]

You don't think so? Even with everything weird going on?

[elfstoned]

What is it that you think will happen to it?

[argents]

Honestly? I don't really know. It just seems like too much to be a coincidence.

Maybe not though, if you're saying something like this has happened before.

[elfstoned]

That's exactly what I'm saying. Every few years someone tries to clean it up. But poverty is tenacious.

[argents]

I wonder what would finally be enough to contend with it.

[elfstoned]

Depends on what you mean by "contend." A bomb might do it.

[argents]

Not having to resort to something so straight-forward might be worse. Bombs fall all the time and nothing changes.

[elfstoned]

Sad but true.

In all likelihood more homeless would move into the area before it could be developed anyway. The point is, I have no idea what could change the Dead District short of achieving utopia.

[argents]

...It sounds impossible. But so did a lot of other stuff before last week.

[elfstoned]

We have enough of the impossible to contend with already. Don't worry about what might happen, unless it does.

[argents]

I'll try. It's hard, knowing that there are more people being hurt. Because of whatever's going on.