My Cardboard Balcony

The listless stranger trails behind a serpent's coil of railroad workers. They toil over iron, hot and sharp, the rust crackling across their skin. Eventually, the laborers will be as stained and taut as the boards and nails they pound into angry submission. When the trains roll, they and their conductors will both be belching smoke. The listless stranger has coal in his pockets - he will not share it with anyone.