A low light struggles

to create shadows. Curtains

hang lifeless before an open

window. A radio in a back room

whispers out a sound between

static and humid air.

Men gather, choosing favorite

chairs. Cigarette and cigar smoke

drifts up forming its own

cloud. Working calloused hands

hold weathered playing cards.

Suspicious and curious eyes feign

confidence before a pile of wrinkled

money intended for rent and

groceries staring contemptuously

at them. A sleeping dog raises his head

when cards are thrown in disgust.

A chair tips over as harsh words

fill the space between men. Slowly

they leave for the fields. Work soothes

the anger but not the loss.


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