The ragged young harlot walked through the snow.
Carrying the new-born babe.
The child with the X branded in his forehead.
The first pain he felt.
The pain of being born, as he was.
She walked down the street of trash, through the ice.
Through the cold detritus of the society of people.
Those good people who should be caring for her.
Those godly people who should be protecting her.
The bountiful society of the human hive.
The kings and queens and the workers.
As she waded through the garbage she felt ants crawling under her skin.
The poisonous stings of the ants, numbing her senses.
Killing her enough to do what she felt she must do.
She carried her new-born babe to the dumpster.
And baptized it in filth.
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