I don’t believe in the term woman’s
work, I do understand that in theory it has made my life harder and I’m ok with
that. I dig out my old jeans and lace you my work shoes. I walk through the
living room my husband still in his PJ’s sitting in the recliner watching the
football game.
***
I pull the shed door open and
walk into the back. She doesn’t even look like she has ever been used. I grab
her handle and pull her out into the sunlight. I have to do a quick walk around
to make sure that I know what I’m working with. I put on my gloves and reach
down grab the handle with a quick yank she starts up. I listen for a moment,
look around and make my first cut.
Compare this to the 'best part of the story' one--here, the piece is complete and ends with on a particular note. The other stops without that last note.
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