He was dreaming he was a tater roasting in hot coals just before he awakened to the sensation of being slowly dragged by a strap pulling at the back of his neck, laid out like the loser in a knock out prize fight, across a soft but bumpy surface. The sun, at its highest point in the sky, pressed down with white heat on his eyelids making it impossible to open them. Suddenly, he felt the salvation of cool relief as the parched earthy smell turned to the sweet fragrance of young grass and a shadow inched across his face encouraging him to open his eyes. There stood his mule, Jane, still harnessed to the plow and standing over him just taking a break, in the shady hedgerow, where she apparently had labored to drag it along with his “dead weight” in tow. The shade and cool grass revived him quickly and moments later he was able to untangle himself and stand as he brushed the dust from his face and patted himself down. He leaned against his partner wrapping one arm around her neck as he dug through his pocket, past a wad of sod, for a sugar cube and gently spoke in her ear, ” Darlin’, I doubt that John Deere, my brother wanted me to buy, would have known what to do when I fainted. Good girl.”.
Write 6 Sentences. No more. No less. Use the current week’s prompt word. Link the URL to your post via the blue “Click here to enter” button below. Link is live Wednesday through Saturday night late! Spread the word and put in a good one to your fellow writers
PROMPT WORD: PLOW
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