Page 85 - Maj 2020 PDF

neighbourhood drunkards are hired to dump the factory's toxic waste in the

yard. The factory saves a thousand of pounds a month with that little scheme
instead of paying the city's toxic transport, which collects contaminated and

poisoned waste and degrades it legally.

The barrack looks as if it can be squashed at any moment, but he doesn't worry
him now. Quickly, he puts on his shoes and starts walking towards the building.

With a firm grip, he grabs the double main entrance door. The door is unlocked;

it gives off with a crackling sound. His heart starts pounding even harder in his
chest. What if some of the scum around here saw him? What if they are in there

hiding, choosing to assault him whenever he enters, then all of this will be in
vain. He slowly takes a step inside through the door and enters, the stench of

gasoline and rubber as well as the unmistakable smell of excrement hits his nose,

so much that he have cover his face with his hands. For a moment he reflects on
his situation, then he ignites his lighter; his heart pounds even harder now, as if

it’s about to burst through the chest. His breath is short and in waves. The light

from the flame is dim, so he can barely see. Nobody came to strike or yell at him,
there’s not a soul in here. He moves on further inside the building. He musters up

his inner courage and calls out in the dark with a loud voice.
"Hello, is anyone here?"

No answer arrives. He bends over and examines some broken bricks. The

feeling of stepping into water, that’s seeping through his shoes. He bends down
and let’s the flame illuminate the space he’s standing on, puddles of water and oil

fills the floor. He climbs up on a worktable nearby and raises his lighter as high

as possible, while looking out over the room, and jumps down proceeds to walk
through the hallway that cut through the room. The hallway is a mess and has

collapsed in several places. Still no people to see anywhere, just trash. He takes

treads lightly, and with great care not to step on broken glass shards or rusty
nails laying on the floor, that protrude everywhere from overturned sheets of

wood and metal. Onward, he moves with great speed towards a corner in the

opposite end of the room, where he sees a door. He hits his knees on all the
rubble in the room. In the middle of the pile of junk, there’s a cavity where he can

carefully place the cash. He pulls out an old musty chipboard in front of the pile
of bricks. As soon as the money is placed, he quickly moves back towards the