Fleeting Moments

Bursting with energy to get the job done, and tired of waiting idly, I finished loading the truck while the others chatted nearby in a huddle.

“Okay. All loaded. We need anything else?” I announced upon completion.

“What? Wait…you loaded it up all by yourself? We we were all gonna help, but damn you look too little to be that strong. You work out?”

“Nah. I just work.”

“Right, nigga, everybody has a job. What do you do that could possibly make yo scrawny fame strong enough to lift all this heavy shit by yo’self without hittin’ the gym?”

“I manually unload, haul, and load freight, upwards of about 150-300 pounds, 10-12 hours a night, 5 nights a week.”


“Yeah. Can we go now?”