We were out in the country now.
The slaughterhouse was the last stop before the bus headed down the narrow lanes and through the small villages back into town. I was the only passenger left on board. The bus struggled to a halt, the diesel engine was whizzing and groaning.

I got up and went to the door at the front.
„See you soon, boy. Pop down to the youth group some when, it’s next to the Castle Inn, I’m quite involved there now, we can have a chat.“ the driver said as I stepped out onto the grass bank at the side of the road.
„Bye.“ I said.

The drizzle had stopped, but it was still overcast. Looking back into the bus I could see John rolling cigarettes, getting up a stock to keep him covered until he was back in town. He used to roll them whilst driving but had a bad accident killing an old man, no one knew why he was allowed to drive again after that.

I walked behind the bus – I could still smell the exhaust – checked quickly to see if anything was coming, and then went over to the end of the road leading up to the top of the hill where the slaughterhouse stood.

A sparrow hawk was circling, looking down, letting out an occasional cry. It could see a small boy standing at the bottom of the hill, gazing up at the large red building at the top of it. The high chimney was belting out smoke into the morning grey. The hawk flew over the roof. Two men were standing in front of the building next to a half open iron door. They were smoking and drinking beer, warming their hands from time to time on a fire in a rusty oil drum. Both of them were wearing blood stained aprons, covered the spilled guts of the animals they had slaughtered that morning. The machines were running on their own now, the first batch was hung up, dripping into the steal trough.

At the back of the building the hawk could see the large open containers with the left-overs, parts of the animals that were sent somewhere else to be turned into other things. It was too early for the swarms of flies that usually were to been found there. The hawk swept down to the first container and rose grasping an eye, the eye peered down towards the distant valley where the green bus could be seen thundering down the country lane.

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