"Don't kill me I can work. I can work." The screams of the eighty-year-old grandma echoed in my ears as I headed to work. An old man called out "I have money " I snorted he was in a camp his children would already have declared him dead and his money would have gone to them. Keeping my head down I repeated my mantra There is nothing to be done. This is a short story. I am basing it in a future where the us government decide to use a policy of benign neglect on old people. Basically due to massive debt issues they declare anyone over 60 as dead and begin to kill them off. The world is set in a grim future where due to rising sea levels and temperature levels famine has wiped out much of the life on Earth.