He dreamt of long, relaxed nights, of sleeping all day. He dreamt of creating beauty. He dreamt of green forests and waterfalls. He dreamt of being free.
There was nothing but desert. Rocks and sand as long as his eyes could see. Hard work all day. Burning sun. Dry air.
He jumped up on the tank driller once again, drove up the hill… (More)
Rewritten and republished. Originally posted on fictionspawn.com September 21. 2016.
Gundersen was standing on his little bedroom balcony. He could see the whole factory from here. It was going well, they had lot of profit. He was getting rich.
The workers kept complaining, though. Assholes. He had built a great factory they could work in, and all they ever did was whimper. Our children are hungry, they said. We can’t afford medicines. With the accidents lately things had gotten worse.
He couldn’t get the image out of his head. She had been only eight years old, the little girl. Her body crushed in the paper compressor. Her swollen face…
Something moved in the shadows. Keep taking photos! said Dale exited. They moved closer, carefully. They heard a sound behind them. They turned around. A giant spider jumped at them. It caught Mary. Pulled her through the door. She was screaming. Then there was silence.
Mary! shouted Dale. Mary!!! He grabbed a pointed saw from the floor. Mary! Where are you?
Dale… please, help me… She sounded weak. He moved into the other room. She was hanging on the wall, A sticky web was covering her body. He ran over to her, started cutting the web. It stuck to the saw like glue.