The chief of the Soda Creek Indian Band likened the area touched by the spill to a spiderweb
I live in northern Alberta, home of the tar sands—a series of giant pits of mucky bitumen mixed with the earth in a way that is incredibly difficult and destructive to extract. Think: cavernous bites taken out of the ground; giant tailings ponds of silty toxic goo; dead animals; cancer.
Lots of transient men work in trades in the tar sands, for Canada’s best money. They travel a long way to get there, but they don’t plan to stay. They lodge in temporary housing, take drugs, drink, and buy sex. It’s a grim world, by all accounts.
“What I’m saying is, you weren’t freely expressing yourself by being raped by three men.”
looking back, she would have done things differently
the leak can no longer be seen from the air
Safe is a relative notion