The machine was so loud that they had sealed it inside a large metal silo. It helped for the village outside to deafen its constant rotations. Where it became a problem was for the maintenance crew who wore  many pieces of ear protection when entering the silo but still lost parts of their hearing upon entering. For this reason most of the technicians retired after forty. It was a most vital job for the community as the machine provided all the electricity for the town. It spun rapidly into the earth its large gears receiving power from the heat below.
For Oshie it was the job she had always wanted. Her father had been a siloman and even though she had to learn sign to communicate with him in later years it was a price worth paying. She did the job to honor him and everyone else who kept this community going long after the fall had wiped out so many towns like this one. Today’s task was not an easy one. The gears needed monthly oiling but with the constant spinning one had to be careful not to lose a finger or have the oil going into wrong spaces and destroy the machine. Oshie did her task carefully. She was always careful. 

After a few hours work she exited the Silo into the Manitoba air. She removed her safety goggles and the sun pierced her eyes. She raised her hand for cover and could seem Jim coming towards her then. His bearded smile a welcome respite. He hugged her close and she pushed back,
“Stop, I’m gross.” She said but he grabbed her and pulled her back to him.
“You’re my world saver. Like actually.” She took the embrace this time sinking into his earthen smells. She looked past his shoulder to the town they protected, a few children running free in the streets. Maybe Oshie and Jim would have a child one day. Maybe they would become a siloman. Or maybe by the time they got old, the Silo would no longer be needed. But for now she would continue to keep it running.
And her ears rang. But quiter each year.