White Foam

The rusted jeep prowls the yard of the plant that churns up a white foam in the river beside it. The red brick industrial machine lies elusive to those who gaze upon the colossal from the other side of the chain link fence. As productivity heightens, fish farming in the water declines. Water levels reach new levels of impurity. The hungry class walks by the fencing and can't help but notice how happy the boy is who plays in the yard with a yellow ball, under the supervision of a fellow in the yellow jeep. Birds do not circle his head. This is the boss' son. No one has ever been fired from the plant. In fact, no one has ever seen anyone exit from the plant. Many a teenager has attempted to sneak into the plant and see for themselves, what is life like in this beast? Each attempt results in a wicked chase helmed by the fellow in the rusted jeep. And then, no one ever sees these teenagers again.

White foam continues to ripple the river and slow its flow as though absorbed with sap.

Profits soar.