The city is endless.

To some this would be a maddening fact, and for many it is. Some have lost their minds trying to map it, and others have spent their entire lives traveling in search of an edge that does not exist.

The city is endless.

And yet, there is food enough–and water–for most if not all. Regular rains find catchments. Rooftop gardens and fallow lots burst with seeds. And there are the mysterious food parcels, and packets of “powdered water,” that seem to appear from no-one-knows-where when the only alternative would seem to be starvation or dehydration.

The city is endless.

Yet people have made lives–many lives–within it. Many are happy, even as many are maddened.

The city is endless.

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