If miners wear cotton-linen beneath their uniform, it can darken like the coal they caress on the job. In dumping the shards into a cart, a raucous cacophony bounces around the mine. They labor strenuously, day after day. Many miners covet a rich man’s lifestyle, call for one less arduous. Sadly, their station in life leaves them coated with a daily cover of dust, the color as black as what comes from the walls. At shift’s end, they hang their filthy pickaxes on the built-in column. The sun’s corona, an unusual sight, greets them at the entrance of the mineshaft.
This is so well written.
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Appreciate it, Sadje. Every Sunday, I look forward to seeing what comes out. 🙂 I loved that they were all C words too! A new twist.
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Yes, I too noticed the “C” words.
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Enjoyed reading the short story about miners.
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Glad you liked it, Kritika! 🙂
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