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two workers cut small logs and wedge them like steps behind the buried wheels.
Bryce paced near the road, talking loudly into his phone about liability. Hank ignored him.
Finally, Hank climbed into Ruthie’s cab. The seat springs squeaked. Matthew stood at the window. “What do you want me to watch?”
“The cable.”
“For slack?”
“For singing.”
Matthew frowned.continue reading …
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