christopher

The Mystery of Bitcoin

The black clouds on the silky sky started to part and let the moon beams sliver their way down to the earth with reflections rippling across the muddy puddles. The large rusting Iron horse behemoth sat covered with the nights rain. Its powerful gears and smokestack never to bellow and grind again as it did 50 years ago as it traced it path on rails laid by bloody backs of the immigrant bodies sacrificed. The proud face of the machine boasted a large broken headlight above a face perfectly around with the engraving of the compass and square burned deep into the cold iron. The dripping smokestack leaning from the rusted supports bled water onto the iron front panel to wash away the dust of time to reveal the pyramid and all-seeing eye. The rainwater slid down the inside wall of the giant belly where years of heat and pressure pumped the pistons as if they were valves in a heart. 80 years of burnt coal had left its scare in the belly with ashes five feet deep from its final run. Never to be burning again.