Hopeful sign

The wall was more of a fence, a barrier of corrugated iron meant as much to keep people out as to prevent their gazes looking in. The run-down buildings within the rough rectangle of iron seemed to have survived at least three economic crashes, if only in an architectural sense. A length of barbed wire ran along the perimeter, like so many knots of prayer that there might one day be a need for all of that. Something to protect within.

On the outside of the wall, someone had spraypainted in large, bold letters:


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