If you’re out early enough the air is crisp and not full of exhaust fumes yet. I don’t know if it’s fresh but it’s as fresh as you’re going to get here. I’m at the bus stop watching my breath fog my glasses and not caring enough to wipe them off. It’s better if I don’t see the city for what she is.

The bus stop is beside a vacant lot that’s dolling itself up for future dates with developers who’ll have their way with her. It’s nothing new to this lot.

A while back at this spot where I stand, a man produced a knife as he approached two very young children. He told the boy if he said or did anything he would kill his sister. Then he took her to the darkest part of the vacant lot and had his way with her.

It’s a terrible burden for a child to bear. Less than ten years on this planet and this is a part of those ten years. How many more years are you going to want after something like that?

It’s exactly what I’ve come to expect from my city. I wonder how many people remember the story, it’s only a few years old.

When the price is right my city will move on and forget each and every one of its sins. Beside this bus stop there will be cramped townhouses with nice families trying to get by.

They probably won’t even know the history of the place. Maybe they wouldn’t care if you told them. But I know of at least two young children who will grow up not being able to forget.

My city doesn’t just bury her sins, she clear cuts, bulldozes, then hides her sins with buildings.