His life in a can
A Short Story
"She’s put out a beer for me! That’s so thoughtful!"
He feels shamed, just when he was thinking she takes him for granted.
He’s been slaving away out here all morning in the sweltering heat, cutting-back this enormous bloody bougainvillea that she keeps nagging him about. It’s the Council's green waste pick-up tomorrow and he’s taken the day off, from the monotony of his daily commute, to a job that he has long since mastered, to get this done.
He’s bleeding where the thorns have torn at his shirtless torso. His sweat makes pink runnels in the grey dust that is thick on his office-pale skin. The scratches sting, as the salty rivulets reach them, and he’s not sure that he hasn’t had too much sun. He knows he’ll be sore in the office tomorrow.
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