Wednesday, 15 August 2007

Toil

He marks, and pierces, and pivots, and heaves, and turns, and sweats, and pauses.

Rubber boots slice into his bare shins. Rivulets of perspiration dissect his brow.

Daughter and giraffeDaughter converses with giraffe, waxing lyrical nonsense. The air throbs, resonating with the chirps of crickets.

He marks, and pierces, and pivots, and heaves, and turns, and sweats.

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