Return to Sender

They Were Damaged Goods Destined for the Scrapheap of Humanity

When There's Nowhere Left to Go but Home

No one passes their childhood days fantasizing of someday becoming the community whore, or of murdering innocents, or being a hated thief, or a disease-ridden half-breed or a dejected prisoner marching toward his execution, or of having illicit gay sex in public restrooms. Yet this is what these wretched souls had accomplished in adulthood. They were the dregs of society, destined only for the scrapheap of humanity. After decades of abuse to both others and themselves, life had chewed them up and spit them out. These souls were damaged goods: not B stock, but completely ruined, too flawed to be of any use to anyone. The only thing left to do with people this broken was to send them back to where they came from, clearly stamped: Return to Sender.