Perhaps this is the future, the city of rapid progress and fulfilled dreams.  The city that keeps expanding, reclaiming, consuming.  Maybe for the time being, I can build my hopes up like an empire of concrete and glass, with a mixture of races and different ethnicities that converge here.  A metropolis to pick up the pieces, move forward, to find the identity I once had.  To earn, true to my bourgeois origins.  Perhaps here, the sands would allow me to grow fiber without water.  


Every nerve in my body trembles, saying no.  But I need to get out of my comfort zone and explore other ways.