Artificial lights flickered feebly under the large metal working called the plate. Thousands of people, already used to the dim lighting moved around on their business, some shambling aimlessy whilst others moved with the fevor of one being chased, odds are in this stinkhole they were.
most that moved through alleys and along the shadows of streets had never seen the light of the sun, most that walked the streets in the open could say the same. The upperplate was a luxery for those with money or connections, but money was needed for connections and that precious thing wasn't well found in the slums.
Most did not care though, they had their lives and lived them, oblivious t the fact it could be so much better. But there
were some who did dream of that place up top, mostly young children and teens, not yet to have the hope stamped out of them.
These were the life of the slums, the only things that brought a trae of a smile to a face any longer. The only things to truly live in the cesspool of angst and depression.