Autistic Ghetto

Date: 8/29/2018

By Zephandrypus

It was always dawn. I was moving into this “ghetto” for people with autistic. Everyone kind of stumbling around staring off into space. The further in you got, the higher on the spectrum everyone was. At the end, the doors had slide-chain locks on the outside. At some point I was leading a flying helicopter (mine I guess) to the ghetto like it was on a long leash. On the way to lunch or whatever, people kept climbing through a hole through silt to get under a fence, when you could just go around 5 yards away.