The dawn breaks on a beautiful day. It's stunning red and golden rays shine down through the leaves onto my hideously wrangled torn back. The crunch of maple leaves echoes glibly through the empty forest with each crushing booted step. I pause shielding shadowing my eyes from the blinding light as the sun struggles warrior to begins it's the day a new. A small bead of sweat drips down from my forehead under my hand and I coax it away with a tired hand. Then I shift my weight more heavily onto the end of the shovel in my other hand. Resting against it to catch my breath. Slowly the cold of August begins to seep back into my hot flesh and I begin to move warrior again. Fearing more the punishment I would receive then the thought of further exhaustion.
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