Chapter 7: The Commodity Tales: – The Truck Driver

The truck was government-issue, a relic from an army surplus sale. Its faded green exterior and battered frame told a story of years of service. The driver, a grizzled sub-contractor for the Office of Financial Affairs, knew every creak and groan of the old beast. His attire consisted of an old, tattered shirt and a leather jacket that had seen better days. A cloud of cigarette smoke clung to him, mingling with the scent of armpit and fast food.

With a gravelly laugh, he hauled himself into the cab of the truck. This was just another job for him, a means to an end in a world where the lines between right and wrong had long since blurred. His cargo for this trip consisted of two dozen frightened children on a one-way journey to hell, as he saw it.

He knew the children’s stories, all their parents had debt they couldn’t pay. They were commodities, assets, nothing more. In the eyes of the system, they existed to pay off debts, to serve their time, to become obedient workers in a world that valued profit above all else.
As the engine roared to life, drowning out the children’s hushed conversations, the driver glanced at the rear view mirror. The reflection staring back at him was a face hardened by years of indifference, a face that had long ago shed any trace of empathy.

The children, huddled together in the dimly lit cargo hold, represented a harsh reality. Their faces bore the weight of fear, their eyes wide with uncertainty. Some clutched cherished belongings, remnants of a life they had been torn from. Others simply stared at the floor, lost in a world of pain and confusion.

In the distance, the truck’s headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating a winding road that seemed to stretch on forever. The driver took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the cold night air. To him, these children were just another cargo, a means to an end. The road ahead was long, and he had no time for sentiment. The world had turned cruel, and he had become a part of its machinery, a cog in a heartless system that ground down dreams and swallowed innocence whole.

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