Morgan Brophy

Period 3
4/18/16
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Labor
Sweating profusely, I grudgingly raise the axe high up into the dry afternoon air. My
weak limbs struggle under the weight of the hefty tree-chopper. Breathing heavily, I force down
the axe and drive it into the stiff bark. Tears glaze my eyes as pain shoots through my muscles.
Scorching my burnt skin, the sun beats down on my back as I clutch the axe once more.