And he handed me the carnage of so many wasted and poverty stricken corpses. And I scrubbed. And as I scrubbed, I watched the water turn into tea and then into coffee and then into a rainbow-shimmering sheen of crude oil. I scraped the burnt-on remains-off so the worn, rusted, yet impregnable metal pieces could be a bit more presentable: lamentable. In preparation of the first-world ones who take a bite at pleasure, and then discard. Who borrow by bond their treasure and waste the world with all their lard.
I don't usually write about stuff like this, to be honest I think it's the only one of its kind I have.