I can almost feel the strain in my shoulders, arms and back again as I shuffled through the grain. I had to level the load so nothing fell over the sides of the truck. It’s much more beautiful in memory; in reality swirling dust obscured your vision, dust and sweat trickled into your eyes and nose, and made you itch all over. Still, I can remember the impressions of swirling golden grain flowing around my legs in eddies that threatened to swallow your legs unless you moved them. I guess life is like that: you have to look for the beauty while you’re sweating through the dust.
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