Demarcation
Many years go a woman was walking in a field when she came across something she had never seen before.
It was long and windy, stretching it’s way down to a vanishing point.
It had sharp barb’s on it preventing entry.
She touched it and cut herself.
Her blood dripping on the grass.
This was the first line of demarcation.
It was her introduction to private property.
The inclusion of some and the exclusion of others.
Life would never be the same.
