Ｔｈｉｓ ｉｓ Ｕｔｏｐｉａ．
Here lie the remnants of “the old city”. It is a slum where the victims of the great recession now reside. Old, worn, broken. Great cement and steel buildings of the mid-century, built so close to one another, they touch wall-to-wall. Ancient structures stacked so high, they disappear into the darkness of the sky. They are rusted and heavy and seem to tilt, like crooked trees in the wind, creating a jagged skyline. At any moment, they seem as though they’d collapse down onto the streets below, but they stay up somehow. The air so polluted, it blocks the sun from sight and fills the sky above like a gloomy cloak. The horizon hides behind a vast blanket of brown and grey so that the rest of the city is concealed from view.