In and Out
Stop right there !
Daily my beautiful back and arms ached under the continuous strain of the oppressive contortion necessary to labour within an ocean-wide cotton crop field. My forehead knew just how quickly the unrelenting heat could peel away cracked bakings from its surface. No moisture in my eyes ever survived to soothe.
Did I hear that right? Stop right there? Stop where?
In slowest motion I managed to haul my fatigued drenched body from my grateful knees to my burdened feet. Here I am. Here I stand. Now, who is that calling?
No one to be seen.
No one except fellow crop pickers hunched over in their own unnatural doings getting at that mercilessly demanding cotton.
How could I be in God's good grace, out in this depleted world?
Back to my knees, back to my work, I took bright notice with horrified realization of a fresh menacingly soil-slithered furrow clearly recently forged by a passing I dared not know what.
What I did know is how grateful I was to have risen when called.
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