The urban lot was rife with hustle and bustle. Ground being broken and scaffolding bones of a building-to-be raised heavenword, ready to join its concrete brothers and sisters. Everywhere you looked blue collar men and women did their part in the great work of whatever place they were here to make. Or at the very least look like they were. Rough work, heavy machinery and hazards to be avoided. Certainly no place for a baby at first glance.
The forman, Paulo, Pauly to his friends, walked through the site overseeing his contractors and making sure everything ran smoothly. They weren’t behind schedule, per se, but if anything went wrong it was his head the folks who hired them would crack down on. Halfway between six and seven feet he stood out among all the work. Ideal not only for him to keep an eye on everything but to let those around him know to keep busy as well. But all their precious progress would soon come to a crawl(pun not not intended) when…
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