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The burdened, young miners. Nightsight deep underground. Offering their health, since the early 20th century, for the black gold that feeds the steaming monsters.

Dig! Scratch the surface! Lookin into the eyes of

the beholder. Their lungs burst due to the venomous dust that clawed deep inside their lukewarm body. The skin became raw and chapped.

And all they had was one major asset: the connectedness among the companions. Comrades for life, that would watch each other’s back, for the reaper to turn in.

They didn’t expect it, but as from 1964 they decided to close the hell pits down. Tears for whatever emotion that washed in, along to accompany the 44,000 blackened miners with the farewell of their presumed destiny.

My deepest respect to all of them….

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