They Kicked Our Survival Box, So We Built a Wall They Couldn’t Tear Down

the ER, we get debt.

We were trapped in the open air.

Then, a car pulled up. A sleek, black SUV. The owner—the original owner—stepped out. He was with the Beige Shirt guy. They were checking on the new security locks. They saw us standing there. A dozen shivering rejects.

“Go home!” the owner shouted from the safety of his running car. “I’m calling the continue reading …