We queued in an orderly fashion.
tom
My whole life is spent standing in queues now: we queue for food; we queue for medicine; we queue for clothes. Some days I feel like I am queuing for the grave. Just waiting in an orderly line for my turn to step delicately into a coffin, asking the undertaker to not use too many nails for I haven’t much money.
Not that money counts for much anymore. Money requires trust, and trust, like everything these days, is in short supply. Ration coupons are all that matter now, if you live outside the walls that is. With us, The Vulnerable.
On the other side of the wall live The Immune. After the great pandemic, society split into two: those who caught the virus and gained immunity, and those who caught it and didn’t. We can always be carriers; we can catch it again.
So they built the walls to keep themselves safe, God be dammed anyone who might be stupid enough to not carry the right antibodies. Too fucking lazy to produce Immunoglobulin G.
Almost no-one is willing to cross the wall to bring us supplies now, so we obey what the loudhailers spew: “Please queue in an orderly fashion”.