Hau hau tribe
Leading the front row. Beyond the telephone exchange and past the confectionery store lies a small tribe. Not small with a capital G but with a petite, more refined A. They live in the garbage, with the rats and eat disposed burger wrappers. At the moment they can be seen running from a streetsman with a bag of shopping.
The scavengers were old. They were very old people, maybe older than dust. But dust disguises itself as human.
One dashes for the revolving doors.
Bald, egalitarian audiotapes. They sound like air, when played backwards. But with skill you can pick up sounds of semblance. Like the tribe, it hears the clatter of eagle cars.