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A Contractors Life

My Father built and repaired houses. Like my Mother, I have a fear of potentially, terrible disasters; They are well-founded, you see. I’ve seen the nail-through-the-finger; the fall from ladders and his face, the day that someone’s hammer broke a light bulb And glass shards dotted his face. After a while, the ER employees knew him by name. Nevertheless, he went to work every day, quite proudly and returned in the evenings for his, aspirin and pre-supper, nap.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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Book: Shattered Sighs