My Cardboard Box

Work Therapy

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The Mechanic showed up at the Laundromat at the Center of the Universe this morning, looking like he’d wrestled with a wolverine. There weren’t too many parts of his skin outside of his hands that weren’t covered with scrapes, scratches, and outright gouges.

“What happened to you?”

“I worked this week.”  He’s been out of work for a month now, having gotten fired thanks to a co-worker and escorted/black-listed from the base. He was never happy with the job; he often complained that it felt like he wasn’t earning his keep and they wouldn’t let him do more. (Native American contract). In a way, it was a relief or sorts.

“I’ve been setting posts and barbed wire,” the mechanic explained.  “I hurt like hell and there ain’t a part of my body that ain’t aching.”

He went silent for a second, then smiled.

“And it’s first time I’ve slept well in two years.”

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Written by PappyBro

August 26, 2012 at 17:30

Posted in Musings, The Mojave

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