This war had cost the Grin Gang.  Their LHM murdered, and Kirsty, herself, had found herself in prison.  Despite her being a woman, they had put her in a man's prison.  This was a stretch in solitary confinement.  She had shouted conversations with her neighbours, and she disguised her voice to that of a gruff males.

She asked if it was true that Big Ape had revolutionised the prison subculture, and that romantic love existed between men and that it was considered a higher, purer form of love.  No, came the reply, that's not the case.  A psychotic bisexual inmate named Teck had ruined all of that the very instant that Big Ape left, bullying people, starting fights, and making the entire prisons a less beautiful and more foreboding place.

But how do people cope?  Well, said the man in the next cell, we smuggle in letters from the outside - we listen to how people get on in the Streets, in the world.  And we try to avoid Teck and his gaggle of sodomites.  

What a life, thought Kirsty.  Big Ape's legacy of masculine love has not endured.  If only she were a man, and if only she was in general population, she could pass on what she had learned.

But, instead, in this place, an oppressive culture reigned supreme.  Love and been replaced by fear, and the physical act of love, once a giving and sensitive act of union, had been co-opted by thieves and vagabonds.

Kirsty considered setting up a glory hole, in homage to her late, great vagrant friend and mentor, but being in solitary meant that she would only be able to serve, rather than give, and she was in a giving mood, having felt a minor sense of injustice at her incarceration.

This had been a frightening experience of the penal system, and she yearned for her life, for the Streets, the Grin Gang.  

The door opened, finally, and she was free....