New Furrow by zanya 100 Word Dash writing prompt entry |
James's wrinkled face glowed in the March sunshine.
'Giddy up Ginger, gotta plow to the headland,' he urged. James's arms ached. 'Damn it,' he muttered,' how long more can I do this, at seventy?' Nearing the headland, he glimpsed a red van by the iron gate. A young man in wellington boots opened the gate and strode over. 'Morning Mr Smith,' the man said. 'I'm from the Agri department. Would you oversee young students with their plowing skills?' Lifting his tweed cap and wiping the sweat from his brow, James replied, 'well, I'll be damned. Diplomas in plowing it is!'
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