Costner: Pollution

I awoke today to an acrid odor stinging my nostrils and eyes. The sky outside was the color of volcanic ash. There was a tasteable difference in the quality of the air here, something metallic, beyond simply the taste of dust one sometimes gets from the windstorms that pass through this area. In the distance a factory that provides us with hot water continuously belched out clouds of white vapor. Whether or not this was steam, or steam and other hazardous things, I do not know. The overwhelming feeling one received from the whole scene was that of impending, or recently arrived apocalypse. The end of the world. What kind of people would let this type of destruction occur? What horrific behavior, what continuous abuse of the land and the air could eventuate a scene like this? Perhaps these are not questions for a foreigner to ask, but after such time here, after making my life here for some years, I am also invested. It is enough to make one reconsider the entire endeavor of career-making in this country.