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Lindiwe had gotten here. In the town’s short history, few had suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock.

Desperation had driven Lindiwe to severe measures, as it had her fellow migrants who ‘d likewise survived the journey.

Lindiwe hadn’t seen the stops on her trip as a tourist might, although there were few European travelers who would venture into sub-Saharan Africa these days. What she saw of the countless miles between Southern Africa and Northern Europe wasn’t through the round windows of an aeroplane overlooking the clouds and spotting ahead of a trail of excessively expensive fossil fuel. She saw no airports and a lot of absolutely no passport controllers. Had she satisfied even one in between Lesotho and London, she ‘d have been unceremoniously bundled away in the back of an immigration police van either to be dumped back in her country of origin or detained in one of the numerous refugee camps that lined the shores of North Africa. And from what Lindiwe had actually found out about these camps, her most likely fate there would be a lonely death while she waited for a choice from the many federal government companies and personal charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the responsibility for feeding the millions of desperate souls in their care.

Nobody would wish to be strained with such duty when there were many other more instant needs to resolve.

Lindiwe didn’t expect Ashton Lovelock to deal with illegal immigrants with anymore generosity than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her existence had been found by an official at any point on her voyage. And when she had actually been obliged to declare her presence, well…

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There had been numerous times when she ‘d had to utilize her body as currency to keep her and her companions safe. This had actually held true from the really start of her journey when she ‘d had to sacrifice her virginity merely to secure an exit visa from the United States of South Africa. There were the weeks and, in the slums of Cairo, the months of working for really little pay and a great deal of spoken and physical abuse in occupations that were far more routine than her post-graduate degree and professional training had ever prepared her for.

Here in the Kingdom of England, there might be an opportunity to make great the credentials that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high expect Ashton Lovelock. Despite the crumbling decay of the hastily-built house she was remaining in, it was a reasonably young town with energy-efficient housing, substantial parking spaces, and a profusion of windmills and photovoltaic panels.

The reality was that Ashton Lovelock was a genuine paradise compared to her initial home in Africa. The years of African famine had not lowered total population numbers by very much. Maseru still housed a population far greater than its facilities might support. The cops were futile against the criminal gangs that made it hazardous to venture out whether at day or night. If they ever paid at all, the couple of available jobs paid really inadequately. Homes and workplaces were collapsing from neglect. Lines of starving individuals wound through the high streets for the few products the criminal gangs permitted to show up in the shops. Only a fortunate few were ever rewarded for their persistence.

Ashton Lovelock, on the other hand, was a town of owner-occupation that had now end up being a neighbourhood of squats as the variety of those who might manage to purchase residential or commercial property in the over-crowded Kingdom of England had shrunk at the very same rate as the supply of non-derelict housing stock. This town had actually once been home to a prosperous neighborhood of 3rd and second generation Asian immigrants, however the regrettable policies of the recently deposed Government of National Unity had actually resulted in their overall evacuation. This inevitably left a vacuum that was now being filled by the latest wave of immigrants: of which Lindiwe was one. She was just one of lots of. There were individuals gathered in Ashton Lovelock from all over the world, though almost all of them were pretending to have actually come through the Northern European Union. This was a necessary lie, made plausible in the aftermath of the National Server Centre Riots. Numerous originated from Africa, at least as many from the Middle East and Asia, and, undoubtedly, refugees from the racially intolerant Republic of North America. The one thing everyone had in typical was a shared

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Aparo shared the exact same single mattress with Lindiwe in a room that had actually once been a loft extension. Apara and Lindiwe shared the mattress in the daylight hours.

” There are no tasks at KFC-McDonalds,” stated Aparo, describing the franchise where she worked. “You’re just going to have to search for work somewhere else.”

Lindiwe’s heart sank. She could not sleep on the bed mattress at night since Mr and Mrs Martin would be there and there weren’t numerous places open at night where she could want to discover work. This meant that her pursuit of employment would likewise suggest going without sleep.

Bored and bleary-eyed, after a night invested in the vicinity of the bus depot in the company of others with nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely wandered the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for a work opportunity. Not that there were lots of locations to check out in the town centre. The owner of KFC-McDonalds, herself a South African immigrant, was sympathetic but pointed out that there was a long waiting list of similarly desperate candidates.

Lindiwe soon understood that there were no tasks for her in Ashton Lovelock at all. The immigrant community had already taken all the readily available low-paid chances. And this was much to the apparent distaste of native English residents, a lot of whom openly taunted Lindiwe with unsubtle reminders of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

The ever-widening radius of her job search eventually included an organization estate on the boundary of Swindon where Lindiwe, at last, acquired a position but as absolutely nothing more requiring than a nightshift cleaning-woman. Although this position needed an expensive two-hour commute by bus followed by a half-hour walk it was still better than needing to spend the whole night preventing the couple sleeping on her daytime bed mattress.

Her main tasks mainly involved changing on and turning off the different cleaning machines and robots. However, it wasn’t long till Lindiwe found that cleansing wasn’t everything she was expected to do, although it wasn’t composed into her terms of employment (which, in any case, were totally verbal and agreed with a handshake).

Throughout the very first week that Lindiwe worked at the George Monbiot eco-business park, she became aware of the presence of spaces that were out of bounds to her and the other night-time operatives. There would usually be an e-paper sign published on the door of these spaces that requested that they be cleaned later. In case there might be some misunderstanding, these doors were locked from the within. This was odd since the only people expected to be working at the offices so late in the evening were security guards and technical operatives.

It quickly became apparent what was happening when Lindiwe bumped into any of the people who ‘d been staying in a locked room. Lindiwe also noticed the odor of sex that was remaining on their individual.

” I like all the personnel to chip in,” Lindiwe’s employer discussed as he handed her the meagre benefits for her first week’s work. He was an exile who had actually returned home after the change of federal government.

” Why don’t individuals go to whorehouses and massage parlours?” asked Lindiwe, who comprehended that her continued work was likely conditional on her accepting this additional work.

” The change of government brought about lots of good possibilities,” Mr Singh stated with a sigh, “otherwise I wouldn’t be here, of course. This operation is similar to lots of others you’ll discover all over this country.

And what they desired was something Lindiwe now needed to offer about two times a week in one of the several out-of-bound offices. They were furnished with rather basic beds instead of desks, computers and chairs. The felt-covered partitions around each cubicle now served the function of hiding what was going on. There was a consistent stream of customers who came to enjoy the low-cost pleasures that immigrant labour was now providing: their hungers whetted by the VR dreams they could enjoy in the comfort of their own houses.

For Lindiwe, this offered no pleasure at all up until she squeezed into the workplace shower with the other nightshift cleaners to spray off the semen, urine and other bodily fluids that the customers believed was a needed part of love-making however during which ordeal the vaginal penetration was probably the least horrible part.

In the town’s brief history, few had suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock. And from what Lindiwe had actually heard about these camps, her most likely fate there would be a lonesome death while she waited for a decision from the numerous federal government agencies and personal charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the responsibility for feeding the millions of desperate souls in their care.

Lindiwe didn’t expect Ashton Lovelock to treat unlawful immigrants with any more generosity than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her presence had actually been discovered by an authorities at any point on her voyage. Bleary-eyed and bored, after a night spent in the area of the bus depot in the company of others with nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely roamed the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for an employment opportunity. And this was much to the apparent distaste of native English citizens, many of whom openly ridiculed Lindiwe with unsubtle tips of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

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Scottish Borders, Scotland (SC)

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