Immolation

The men in grey outfits and red bands came to the town square.

The group already was gathered, as the news bulletins where received day earlier.

Suite cases littered the ground and the women held their most precious jewels and possessions in hand.

This was, however, not a holiday.

The locomotive in the distance blared its horn, signifying that it was time.

The people, forced to leave their belongs behind, where horded into the train cars.

The cars where dark, cramped and had a pungent order.

The last of the people were shoved into the car like cattle and the doors clicked closed and locked behind them.

For hours, the car roared down the line to an unknown destination.

The passengers confused and frightened.

With a screeching halt of the wheels and a sudden jolt, the train rolled to a stop.

The men in grey outfits and red bands opened the doors, and the people spilled out into the pen.

Each where welcomed to their new home by an assignment of a number.

Given a shower, some stipend pajamas and some sawdust soup they knew no shame.

Above the doors they read:

“Work will set you free”