*cross-posted from MA:46*
On the east side of the city, the husks of mostly-abandonded industry watch the sun rise. They sit in a row, old men that fought together, now on the porch waiting out the end. They have a little company, the skeleton crews that keep them running - at least keep them shuffling. Even when the sun is at its most golden, the husks are flat. Drained of vitality, drained of color. Black pillars are now dusty gray, red bricks khaki at best.
The sun is up a few degrees more.
Diesel trucks cough or roar to life. More men and women add their voices to the soundtrack. Even if the crews are skeleton crews, they're still there, keeping the husks from blowing away. Other crews, those that don't toil in the husks of 'mostly-abandoned industry', pass among and around in their cars, trucks, on their bikes.
Comments
#2Mickpedia commented, on December 5, 2007 at 6:23 a.m.:
awesome. i'm so proud of you for not choosing a medium.
(relevance: 165.2)On the east side of the city, the husks of ...
You may have noticed a link to ...
(relevance: 12.9)
zO commented, on December 5, 2007 at 6:23 a.m.:
quickly becoming a favorite of mine.
nicely done!