The adults call this landing on the Stair the Fountain Rotunda. Me and my mates, we think its an appropriate name. There's rot unda' most of the drapes and blankets and makeshift walls that the refugees have erected here around the fountain. I'm sure that the fountain's why they're all here, but what we want to know is why we're here. We're not Lords that stride the Stair and ignore the dirt and trash that collects in the corners.
We're that dirt and trash, and this is our corner.