(no subject)
Sallie'd have his head if she caught him napping during chores--
or, anyway, that's what Jack supposes, even if it ain't, strictly, true.
He'd sure like a nap, though. He's been chopping wood for going on half an hour now and his arms are burning, his back is burning, and the sun that had been just warm enough when he'd started out now feels like a blaze along the back of his neck.
Rise, and fall. Chop.
Nothing better to do, no better place to go. And it's quiet: the only sound is that off the axe chopping through wood.
His company isn't much in the way for words, after all.
or, anyway, that's what Jack supposes, even if it ain't, strictly, true.
He'd sure like a nap, though. He's been chopping wood for going on half an hour now and his arms are burning, his back is burning, and the sun that had been just warm enough when he'd started out now feels like a blaze along the back of his neck.
Rise, and fall. Chop.
Nothing better to do, no better place to go. And it's quiet: the only sound is that off the axe chopping through wood.
His company isn't much in the way for words, after all.