A heavy drone a heavy sway...

Upon first glance there seemed to be little out of place in the small Midwest city of Minot. Lights where on, vehicles on the road, restaurants where full. Save for the disproportionate number of help wanted signs it seemed to be a quintessential farming community before the harvest not ground zero for record flooding. Speculation was high as was the growing discontent after three days on a school bus. As we pulled into camp the faces of our fellow workers were gaunt and tallow like meth heads and abusers. The taunts and jeers of fresh meat, cat calls, and other absurdities left us all wondering what the hell was going on. It was a far cry from the situation described at orientation. The whole atmosphere was one of a prison bus full of the newly convicted pulling into the state penitentiary.

Luckily three of us new comers where snatched up by a few guys who where less desperate and people I would gravitate towards anyway. The next evening we were all on job sites ready to do the work we had planned on doing without much knowledge as to what we were really there for. The revelation fell heavy that we were there only for the cheap unquestioning labor we provided,we were there for the desperation...desperation feeding desperation. Feeling a sense of misguided nobility when asked about working a double I said sure. This merely translated into 24 hours of labor. During those hours the reason i boarded a bus to Minot became clear namely to work off my transgressions, to toil in a hell for redemption never to be found after death in some eternal dream.

There is no redemption to be had. Not even in a flooded out town festering with disease and decay. Why even seek redemption in the obvious fulfillment of life? Ruin.