Pura VIda
“Because I deserve it.”
The worker did not doubt it for a moment, however hollow the man’s answer seemed to ring.
The man had called the worker to dig this hole and dig it he had. The hole now was wider, deeper, and more vacuous that the worker ever though was possible.
The worker had help, to be certain. Many different people along the way had moved earth at his side. The man had made sure that the worker had help, for he knew that one worker could never dig the hole he wanted.
As the worker takes a break, he puts the spade at home in the earth and rests his calloused hands on the now smooth wood, not missing for a moment that the wooden handle is only now smooth because of the now rough texture of his hands. He grows weary, the worker…and no amount of cheer does he take from his co-workers. He wonders, in his most secret of hearts, why the man doesn’t just come down here and dig this damnable hole himself.
The man watches the worker as he rests. It is indeed a long way down to the bottom of that hole. The man is proud of the worker. He has dug much of the hole in a manner befitting his nature. He has worked tirelessly. The worker deserves a break. The man wishes the worker’s attitude was better at times, but he does understand. From the locked banquet room, the man watches, as he sets the table for the after work dinner party…thinking of the keys he has placed at the bottom of the hole.
The worker did not doubt it for a moment, however hollow the man’s answer seemed to ring.
The man had called the worker to dig this hole and dig it he had. The hole now was wider, deeper, and more vacuous that the worker ever though was possible.
The worker had help, to be certain. Many different people along the way had moved earth at his side. The man had made sure that the worker had help, for he knew that one worker could never dig the hole he wanted.
As the worker takes a break, he puts the spade at home in the earth and rests his calloused hands on the now smooth wood, not missing for a moment that the wooden handle is only now smooth because of the now rough texture of his hands. He grows weary, the worker…and no amount of cheer does he take from his co-workers. He wonders, in his most secret of hearts, why the man doesn’t just come down here and dig this damnable hole himself.
The man watches the worker as he rests. It is indeed a long way down to the bottom of that hole. The man is proud of the worker. He has dug much of the hole in a manner befitting his nature. He has worked tirelessly. The worker deserves a break. The man wishes the worker’s attitude was better at times, but he does understand. From the locked banquet room, the man watches, as he sets the table for the after work dinner party…thinking of the keys he has placed at the bottom of the hole.
posted by rOmiLaYu at 8:45 AM
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