The front wall had been bombed out, but the roof only had a few leaks, and the remaining three walls were brick and likely to remain strong unless somebody decided that coming back and bombing through the ruins was a good idea. Not likely unless they hit a certain max number of occupants and triggered an alert for possible rebel activity. She had a pretty good idea of what that max limit was, and any time a squat town came within a standard deviation of it, she packed up her bag and left in the night. Sometimes she didn't hear about it being destroyed later. Not like there was a regular newspaper coming out with tall the wipe-outs, of course, but people moved around by necessity or choice, and there was the custom of passing along the news when you reached a new place. Some people would just stand out in the open and talk until they were hoarse, others were more circumspect and wrote with charcoal on the walls so that people could see, and still others would hide and wait to be sure it was safe, then spring out like a trapdoor spider and grab somebody, pull them back to the lair, and spill all their secrets to that person before letting him or her go. She really didn't like the trapdoor spiders. She thought that approach might be almost as risky as the out-in-the-openers, if only because there were other kinds of trapdoor spiders, and not everyone who looked harmless enough ot grab really was. It was a good way to end up with a shiv in your throat, if you grabbed the wrong person and didn't make your intentions real clear right off.


Inspiration: Photo of a partially destroyed house - http://www.flickr.com/photos/jawadqasrawi/11233977893/
Story potential: Medium
Notes: Not really a story idea, kind of a standard post-invasion scenario, but I do like the character voice.