Brevity

Jesus Gallegos Moralez was an iron ore miner in Venezuela. He went to work on Thursday still aching from the day before and tired from the broken nights that arrive with a newborn baby. He hoped the shift would pass quickly; then the weekend would be in sight.

Not long before lunch, a message was sent down the mine asking Jesus to visit the office. On the elevator, he watched the light above him grow bigger and bigger. As he neared the surface, the torpid heat fell on him. He emerged from the ground covered in grey dust. Before entering the office he removed his mask and helmet then took his gloves off and ran his hands under the tap.

The temperature in the cluttered office was no better. The fan on the wall buzzed loudly, dishevelling the manager’s hair and ruffling papers as it oscillated. Jesus put his hands on his hips. His manager looked at him then handed him an envelope – pay for the three days and four hours Jesus had worked this week. When he didn’t move, the manager gave a vague shrug of apology then gestured for him to leave.

The day’s brightness made him squint. Jesus wept.

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