"This will be great, Jack!" Mom said. I ignored her.

We were currently driving straight towards St. Atlas, also know as a town in the middle of nowhere, where I would have to completely start over. The only reason I wasn't actively making it known how much I wished this hadn't happened was: a) she probably already knew and b) I wasn't quite angry enough to make her life any worse than it actually was.

Mom isn't the best with keeping jobs. Or the 30th best. She might even be the worst, but there's always someone worse than you are at something, which honestly doesn't make much sense. I mean, where do you end up?

I turn to the window. I can see dark chunks of coal underneath all the wild grass, but most of it seems to be just normal rock. At least, I haven't figured out how to differentiate them.

If I was in a book, readers would probably pause in this moment. Maybe re-read it. Then move on. I mean, maybe it's just some weird geological thing, right?

Nah, I can see through the ground. Get used to it, cause it's been there my whole life.

I check the dashboard for how much longer we have to go. 3 kilometers.

I turn back away, tapping out a rhythm on the windowsill, trying to stave off boredom. I close my eyes. Might as well take a nap to pass the time.

When I open my eyes again, I check the dashboard. 1 kilometer to go.

Then I look out the window, wondering if there will be any good coal formations.

There aren't. I can't even see any because of all the off-white rocks.

I lean closer to the window. I've never seen anything like that before. I rake my gaze over the thin lumps, the rounded stones, and the multiple other formations.

There's a vague sense of dread. Fear, even.

Want to know why? Cause those are bones. Human bones.

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