The Workers

A hard days toil. They worked the fields, they sold their goods, they lay stones upon the soil.

The pay minimal - why do they work for so little. Their bright faces shine at me and then they all speak in unity.

“The answer my friend is simple. This income will provide for my family - subsistence for you, plenty for me. I am a simple man with simple dreams - a television would be nice. But you my friend cannot dream of what you already have.”

With those words I walk away, dreaming, imagining, sleeping, crying, laughing, not knowing what to do.