I looked up at the sky and could tell by looking at the sun that it was noon. Soon after I realized what time it was, I heard the foreman yelling that it was time for lunch. He was yelling his same old lunch time calling that he does every day at this time.

"It's time for lunch people. Take your breaks or I'll ram your shovel's up your ass!" The foreman yelled as he walked down the rows of working people.

It was lunch time all right, not a minute too soon either. I've been working on a farm this spring, me and about ten other people who can't find a better job. If the hot sun don't kill you, the pains in your back from shoveling all day long will. I don't know why in the fuck these people haven't heard of machines to do this sort of work, but if they had, I wouldn't have a job. My husband said that I had to get a job, we needed money for the family. He has a job, working over at Mr. Collins's farm, not too far from here. He bails hay and works with the animals. I'm not sure what of everything that he does, but he is usually working with the hogs or the cows. We've got two mouths to feed and I'll be damned if my kids will go hungry. I've spent many a night with a growling stomach because we only had enough food to feed them. That says something, because my husband will only eat if there is enough food left over after I eat. He's that kind of man, his wife and kids will eat before he does. Every now and then Mr. Collins will give Henry, my husband, a little salt pork. If we are really lucky, he will give us some milk and ham, but that doesn't happen very often. Mr. Collins is a greedy son of a bitch, he would fuck his own mother for a quarter if he could. Not to be mean, but that's how the man is.

Nobody gets rich working on the farms around here. One of the old black ladies I work with said that the only rich people around here are the mother fuckers who own the farms. I guess she's right, but I've never spent much time thinking about it. Everyone I know is poor. The richest person I know drives a thirty year old pickup truck that breaks down about every other week. He strolls down the dirt roads around here like a man in the big city would his BMW. He's a nice guy though, I heard he'll give you a ride if you can afford to pay him for the gas. I don't know, if we need to go anywhere, I call someone in my family to come pick us up. I don't call asking for a ride often, maybe once or twice a year. We aren't the type of people who take hand outs, never did like people feeling sorry for me.

Today we were planting potatoes, in a few days I heard we will be planting corn. Corn isn't so hard, I used to plant corn when I was a kid. I would poke a hole in the dirt with my finger and drop a seed or two in the hole. Keep doing that all the way down the row until it's done. I'd have a garden back at the house if I could, but I don't have time. When my kids get older, they will be the ones who take care of the garden. I guess they are old enough now, but I don't want to see them being put to work yet. I want them to be able to enjoy a few more years, now they should be tired from playing all day, not busting their backs. I've always hoped that they would turn out to be doctors or someone who makes a lot of money. Maybe they could get me out of the mess I'm in. I probably shouldn't think that way, but I don't have much hope for me and Henry. We'll never make enough money to live a decent life, one where we'll have enough food to eat. I don't look at the fancy things in life anymore, I don't even dream of a better life.

I got off of work at five o'clock right on the dot. I put away my shovel and the apron that I was wearing that held my work tools in them. I said goodbye to a few friends of mine and walked down the road. Every now and then I walk home with a few of my friends, if I feel like waiting around on them. They usually hang around and talk for a few minutes, shoot the shit about home life and all that good stuff. I don't have much to talk about and I like to get the fuck out of there as soon as I can. If I'm not getting paid, I don't want to be there. I hate my job, but I'm grateful for having a job. I walked down the dirt road that led to my house. Actually, it's not a house but a house trailer. We got it around the time our first son was born. Henry sold his car and used that money for a down payment. We told the owner that we would pay him off in a few years, which we did. It's a shit hole, but it's our shit hole I guess. Can't say that I like living there, but I can say that I like the fact that we own the place.

Henry gets off work before I do, usually around four o'clock. Just around the time our boys get home, but a few minutes afterwards. Usually Henry has supper cooking by the time I get home, unless the boys are being bad. Then he bitches at them like a woman and sits in his chair and stares at the wall. I told him that I could cook supper, but the kids say they like it when daddy cooks for them. They don't think I'm a good cook, but I think I do an okay job. I'm not a master chef, but neither is Henry.

I kicked a few loose stones that were in the road as I walked. I remembered being a kid and pretending that kicking stones was some sort of game. I used to play this game on my way home from school each day. I hated school, but I looked forward to kicking the stones on the way home. Sometimes us kids would skip stones in a pond that was on the way home, that was a lot of fun. One time my friend Danny skipped a rock and it hit a duck in the head. We all laughed when the duck acted like it was knocked for a loop, all of us except Danny. He felt bad for the duck, but we all knew that the duck would be dead and on someone's plate before too long. Ducks didn't live long in that part of the country, where people were poor and duck meat was thought of as a treat. Henry goes hunting sometimes, usually on the weekends when he has time off from the farm. If he can kill a deer, it will give us enough meat for months. Usually he ends up getting rabbits or small game. Stuff that seems like it's more work to clean than it's worth.

I walked in the door and I smelled supper cooking. I gave Henry a kiss and asked how his day was. As usual, he busted his ass and was tired. I could tell that there was enough for all of us to eat. Some potato soup and corn bread, not exactly a three course meal. But, there was enough for all of us to eat. If there wasn't, we could put some water in the broth and make it enough for all of us. I looked over at the boys and told them that if they wanted a kiss from me, they had to wash their faces. We might be poor, but that isn't a reason to go around dirty. I was going to ask Henry why he didn't tell them to go wash up, but I didn't feel like fussing. No reason to start the evening off on the wrong foot.

The boys washed their faces and I gave them a kiss. I always kiss them when I get off of work. Seeing the sparkle in their eyes is what keeps me going. I kiss them for my own personal needs more than for theirs. I need a reason to sweat my ass off every day, they are a damn good reason to me. I sat in my usual chair and turned on the radio. We don't have a television, but we got a radio a few years ago. That works I guess, it's noise to keep my busy mind at ease. I turned it on a twenty four hour news channel and sat back in my chair. I sat my in my chair like my dad used to when he got off of work. He would sit back in his chair and load his pipe with tobacco. He would read the paper and puff on the pipe until supper was done. You wouldn't dare talk to him while he was reading the paper, though he would look up if someone caught him laughing at the comic strips.

Henry yelled out that supper was ready. I sat in the chair while the boys went and got a bowl of soup. I glanced over at Henry and he motioned for me to come over and get some food. I looked at the pan that had the corn bread in it and saw that there was still a lot of it left, I broke off a big chunk and put it in my bowl. I poured the soup over my cornbread and went back into the living room. We have a dinning room, but we don't have a table.

I don't care, I would rather sit and listen to the radio. I like hearing what is going on in the world. The boys like to listen to stations from out of state on AM radio. They think it's neat, kind of like they are getting to travel. I think it's neat too, but I could care less about traveling. I like the shows where people can call in and talk. I listen to one guy from Boston who has a late night show, I seem to remember his name is Bob or something like that. Bob usually gets calls from a bunch of older women who like to talk about movies that where shown in the theater long before I was born. I usually only listen to that if I can't sleep, or if one of the boys isn't feeling good. I know that at least one of them will be up late once a month or more not feeling good. Parents must be sending their kids to school sick, they are always catching something.

There was more than enough for all of us to get something to eat. I was glad, I didn't feel like having Henry watch us eat. I even think there was a little something left over, but Henry might have put it in the icebox for breakfast tomorrow. If there are any leftovers, one of us will eat them for breakfast. Not a crumb of food is wasted in this house. A friend from work loaned me a paperback book. She said that it was a good one, one that would make me good and horny. She's into romance novels. Her sisters sends her books through the mail and she lets people from work barrow them. I usually try to get one off of her when I remember to ask her. I try to read them as fast as I can, that way someone else will get to read it. It's little things like this that makes life livable. I don't know what I would do without those books. I would probably go nuts or something. I don't know how Henry goes on without having anything to take his mind off of things. Sometimes he'll take the boys out in the yard and play ball or do stuff with them. But, I need time to myself.

After the boys were put to bed, I put a few pots on the stove to heat some water. I wanted to take a long bath and read some of my book. We don't have a hot water tank, we have to heat water on the stove if we want hot water. I put the two pots of hot water in the bathtub. I filled them back up and put them on the stove. I asked Henry to take them off of the fire in about fifteen minuets and bring them into the bathroom. I do this so the water doesn't get too cold while I'm in the bathtub. It never gets hot, but it stays at a temp that I can tolerate. I got in the bathtub and filled it the rest of the way with cold water. I usually don't use too much cold water, if I do it makes the bath too cold. I wasn't looking to take a bath, just a nice break from the rest of the world. Just me and a good book, my idea of relaxing.

I slithered into the bathtub and the water felt good. It felt great against my dry skin, but I knew that I would be itching after I got out. I read the first few pages and I knew it was going to be a good book. Shelly, the woman in the book met a man and they were going off on a trip. A trip to an exotic island where they would live in a hotel and walk the beach all day long. The last time I was in a hotel was the day Henry and I got married. I enjoyed every minute of the television and the hot shower. We even fucked in the shower and while watching television. I'd give anything for a nice hot bath, with hot water from a hot water tank. I've been meaning to go visit some family, so we could stay with them. That way I could take a hot shower and the boys could watch some cartoons on television. My nearest family is about a two hour drive from here, a long ways when you don't have a car.

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