“Thanks for your help.” Gary yawned as he handed me $370. I nodded, took my pay, and walked to my vehicle. The sun, also eager to depart, painted the sky orange and pomegranate upon its exit. For a moment, I wondered if Auschwitz prisoners ever saw a pretty sunset. As I shut the car door, I made eye contact with Gary. I turned the key and glanced at that s***hole one last time.

Before that, I fed the chicks under the supervision of Gary’s autistic son, who bombarded me with facts about chickens as I did my work. “Did you know, that …” blah blah blah. The boy, engrossed in hearing himself talk, became white noise to me as I pondered the events of each day.

Before that, I helped Gary move the piglets to the nursery. He carried two in each hand, held them by a rear leg. As I set a piglet down in the pen, I looked over to see the sinewy man toss his load in like rag dolls. When he looked at me through his sunglasses, a pig screamed. With a blank face, his glance lingered for a few seconds, waiting for my reaction. I gave him none.

Before that, I witnessed a man transform into a hostile child. “F***ing move!” he demanded of me. Jaw and fists clenched, I stepped out of his way. To refrain from violence: this was the toughest challenge of the day.

Gary hung up his phone in a fit of rage, unhappy with his colleague on the other end. He kicked a sow in the stomach, insisting that she move too. When she screamed, he kicked another pig. An abusive cycle followed. Kick. “F**k!” Scream. “Goddammit!” Kick. Squeal, stumble, snort. Pout. Eye contact. Distinct, mutual resentment. Kick. Kick.

Screamscreamscreamscream.

Before that, I puked three times.

Before that, I was given a shovel. “Pile up the dead ones out here,” Gary said, referring to the piglets in the farrowing house. With his silent smirk occupying my occipital lobe, I entered the abyss. Therein lay slimy carcasses of a green complexion. As I lifted one, it fell apart like lasagna. When lasagna falls apart, you have to scoop it up like snow.

In order for you to understand the smell, I ask that you think of a blind man who wants you to explain colors to him. Yellow feels warm and soft, like a baby chick. Blue is cold, and depression permeates the darker shades. Red flows like hot water. Dark red dwells in my heart. Now, think of green. Think of the many shades of green you don’t want to think about. Green is sailing through my nose, incinerating the hairs. Trickling down to my stomach, nonchalantly crawling back up. I now possess an ultra-sensitive gag reflex.

Before that, we emptied the farrowing house of the live animals. Though there were enough piglets to fill three trailers, Gary felt pressed on time and said that one load would do it. I wanted to ask him to reconsider, but the screams blocked any coherent thought from forming.

Before that, on the drive there, I listened to the Beatles. I wonder what John Lennon would have thought about all of this.

Before that, I received a phone call from an acquaintance. “Could you work for me next week while I’m out of town? It’s not fun, but it pays good.