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A person in a hooded jacket looks at an eviction notice on a wall, while several figures stand outside in a bleak, snowy, dystopian city street. The style is dark and moody.

A person in a hooded jacket looks at an eviction notice on a wall, while several figures stand outside in a bleak, snowy, dystopian city street. The style is dark and moody.

DRAFT ONE: Space ballad-type Chapter one I wake in my apartment to a cacophony of drilling and shouting outside. The walls are too thin for this, I think, grasping the threadbare sheets that loosely cover my body. I get up to inspect the exact cause of the noise, but am interrupted by a lone sound, a tremor deep within my bowels. I walk over to the food cooling unit, and open it, only to find that I have nothing left. I turn toward the door, but as I approach, an object catches my eye-just barely. It is an envelope, with a singular red marking on it, a glyph. I inspect the envelope further, only to realize the true meaning of the glyph: Eviction. Just as I throw the note down in anger, a loud boom shakes the floor beneath me. I pivot towards the door once again, and as I exit the room, I hear a loud, and yet muffled buzzing echo through the streets outside. I then hear a muttering of a command, an unintelligible voice, demanding immediate attention. I exit the building, and into the harsh, biting winter, which nips at my arms and sends shivers through my skin. I turn to join a crowd of fellow tenants, all looking around desperately, searching for an explanation. The buzzing repeats, this time not muffled by the thin building walls. The voice that follows seems to startle everyone in the small crowd, including myself. “ATTENTION,” the voice booms, “DUE TO RECENT EVENTS, CITIZENS ARE REQUIRED TO EVACUATE THEIR HOMES EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY. THE IRS NOW OWNS THIS STAR SYSTEM. See more