Debt Slaves

Subsistence farming was never remotely part of his plan. He had grown up in a semi-urban environment, not needing to think about food beyond the knowledge that it came from "the store." Now he found himself outside every day, no longer sitting in his fancy office typing threatening letters for his clients on his fancy letterhead, but farming the combined acreage of his and six of his neighbors' backyards. It would have been nice to have that eighth house, to make it nice and square, but old-man Witherell still had his pension and said they were all "bat-shit nuts."

The events that led the neighbors to convoke their small parcels was similar to what had happened in many communities across the country. To start with, they had all purchased houses that had been wildly over-valued. And as chance would have it, almost all the people in this portion of the block had been fired, laid-off, downsized, or had a business fail. Now they were all just plain fucked at about the same time. Some took in boarders, others began selling off their stuff on eBay, but all agreed that as newly-minted debt slaves they would make the best of it.

Now, as he learned the lingo of farming and worked with his neighbors to keep the pests and serpents and critters at bay, he made a pact with himself to medicate only with heavy doses of cooperation. But if that failed, he always had his Colt 1911A1 with the mother-of-pearl grips in his sock drawer.

Seed Words: subsistence, letterhead, convoke, outside, boarder, acreage, lingo, serpent, medicate, mother-of-pearl

(These words were randomly generated on coyotecult.com.)