Staring into the
campfire, I wonder if it has all been worth it. Was it really a smart move to
leave Mary, little Zeke, and a house full of comforts to come out here and pan
for gold? After all, all I get is a couple of silver dollars a week. Sure,
there’s promise of more if we find something nice and shiny of course, but so
far I’ve been sieving nothing but plain ole rocks. Oh well, at least the
sunrises around here are spectacular. Honestly, they’re beautiful. I like to
think of them as my reward for getting up.
Every time I rise in
the morning, that big flame ball that we call the sun is peeping up over the
horizon as if checking that I’m awake. Once he’s ascertained I’m up and about,
he slowly flies into the sky, ready to redden my cheeks and lighten my hair
throughout the day. Naturally, he’s hot as well, but swinging pickaxes into
mountains was already a strain without him coming along and making us sweat, so
I try not to resent him for that too much. Besides, I know that soon he’ll be
retreating and I’ll get to go to bed. It’s the perfect arrangement.
There are times I think
about leaving here though. Someday I will probably just chuck it in and return
to Mary and little Zeke. I miss them, but right now, for the moment anyway, I
know I would miss those silver dollar sunrises even more. Until that changes
then, my life is going to be just me, Mr Sun, and a mountain load of rocks, and
that sounds pretty good to me.
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