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The Drug War
She wanders down the littered streets of Vancouver, B.C., pushing a battered shopping cart with emaciated hands and a loping gait. Her eyes are vacuous, unblinking, as she asks passers-by if they could spare a little change because, she claims, she has not eaten for several days. She is yet another panhandler who will spend whatever earnings they eke out on drugs. People pass her without acknowledgment, with the superior air of those who have not fallen victim to the weakness of drug addiction.
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