I am hunched on the edge of the concrete slab, summer sun scorching my neck and shoulders unrelentingly. I am chiseling, with hammer and file, the mortar off of salvaged bricks. I curse each time a brick breaks under my chisel; that'll be a dock in pay. It's August in Texas; I'm fifteen years old.
Second-Hand Bricks
Second-Hand Bricks
Second-Hand Bricks
I am hunched on the edge of the concrete slab, summer sun scorching my neck and shoulders unrelentingly. I am chiseling, with hammer and file, the mortar off of salvaged bricks. I curse each time a brick breaks under my chisel; that'll be a dock in pay. It's August in Texas; I'm fifteen years old.