You’ve got a college degree? What are you doing here? The question echoed in his head for months at a time. He hadn’t answered the foreman when he asked, he just nodded and went back to adjusting the conveyor belt. But the words just circled in his head like vultures. The factory was a labyrinth of clanging machinery and blaring alarms with the smell of metal and grease in the air. He learned the routine of the factory easily: check the machinery, clear the jams, and keep the line moving. It was actually quite mindless and became strangely comforting after a while. Every shift ended the same way, with oil-streaked hands and a silence on the way home like a heavy coat. He spent every night in his one room apartment eating at a folded table staring at the framed diploma on the wall gillmering mockingly, almost like a shiny trophy in a dusty attic. He once thought that the diploma would open doors to endless job opportunities and a successful career and life, but all it brought was a pile of debt and stacks of rejection letters.

One morning the conveyor belt jammed again. Metal jammed, sparks being sent in every direction. The foreman shouted as employees scrambled everywhere. The factory roared into chaos as he stood still with a wrench in hand, transfixed by the mayhem. After snapping back to reality he gripped the wrench tighter, he adjusted gears and cleared snags. Each twist of the wrench was a step closer into restoring order. The conveyor belt jolted forwards as the workers let out a huge sigh of relief. He took a step back, along with a deep breath. His heart pounded as he felt some pride. Although no one cheered, he got nods as his coworkers walked past him. But didnt care, for once in his life he felt a sense of purpose, and that was enough for him.