The sewers are fairly safe. The stench down here covers our scent, so they don’t even know we’re down here. Makes it hard to eat, though. Everything tastes like crap, even when the cans are newly opened.
They can’t climb ladders, of course, and we’ve blocked up the big service entrances, but occasionally one will fall down an open manhole. They’re pretty easy to deal with when they have broken legs.
I don’t miss civilization. I don’t miss bills, traffic and lines at the bank. I certainly don’t miss being a plumber. I miss the sun. I miss being dry.
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