An open field in mid winter, sky-shot and a few low structures in its center. A road running through the middle, edged by trees growing around barbed wire. We had our breakfast, rummaged about, cinder blocks and fluorescent lights. There were old men in the trucks lining the road, waiting. Young men filed out, each got into a truck with an old man. Panel trucks and pick-ups. I got in with Blake. Blake with a red beard and a bald head. I got in from the cold, I was an old man too.
