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Load 16 tons and what do you get?
I go into the frozen wasteland to pry a chunk of ice from a cliff side. A sizable piece this big should last months.
Dragging it back home, the load feels lighter with each passing mile; the sun’s hot beams pushing the ice block for me.
Smiling at my burden being eased, I walk into town with my arctic prize. I hear people laughing at me. Looking backwards, I’m dragging a wet rope.
Another day older and deeper in debt
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