Crushed olives make themselves known, sharing information through our nostrils as the car bounces off. When the day lights up, fruit arrives in bravery, ready to shed their shape, and unite in gold.

The rain is telling the dry world to rest. Crushing olives is replaced with crushing coffee. The factory thinks of the pickers. The pickers think of the factory. The rain is telling the dry world to rest.

A spot is marked on an unclear map. We burst up the bobbly car, snake through the dry world, and slow near the only sway of trees in the still. The only job left is to follow. Follow where a group of people find peace in a process.