A very long time ago, a woman was looking for a room in the perplexed rings of streets. There were no rooms; she found a gate and walked through it. On the other side of the gate was another city with better arches and innovative vertical public transportation. She moved into this new city, put her desk next to the window and plotted her route to the grocery store. She put up curtains next to her windows and put clothes in her closet. Overall, her apartment was spacious and bright. The city was spacious and bright. The buildings were white, and the air never stopped rolling through. After a week, she began to feel lonely, so she went back and invited a primary group of people to join her. These people invited more people, and their friends followed. Eventually, in the old city, only the hotel people stayed. The hotel people stayed up all night, pleased that everything was now useful. A cat lurked by the back door of the hotel. The hotel people kept their name pins on and for a few years they ran the sprinklers. Then the sprinklers stopped running. The ice makers stopped making ice. On the other side of the hotel was a city. One day the hotel people left, too. On the other side of the city is another city. On the other side of a city, is city.
