Wiping the sweat from his eyes Tom glanced at the sun, it’s harsh rays beating down on his neck and back for the last short eternity had all but beaten him into submission as he hammered down the hot tar and gravel shingles that he had hauled up in the cool of the early morning light.

Tom was aware that he wasn't actually working with Tar and Gravel anymore than the roads that got him here were.

It was a complex blend of fiberglass and asphalt with ceramic... blah, blah blah... he hated when people thought they were being 'smart' by explaining things that didn't need an explanation.

For a moment the Carolina Native contemplated the giant floating hate ball in the sky that was slowly but surely cooking him alive and tried to judge the time from it’s position in the heavens, after a moment he sighed before giving up and glancing down at his watch.

11:05

Fuck, not even halfway done.

Cursing the sun, heat, humidity and world in general Tom glanced down at the half pallet of shingles that still needed to be put on before noon, he had hauled the cursed things up in the cooler morning light alone, his coworkers having decided to take the day off and enjoy the time at the lake.

Of course being the good for nothing sons of the boss he highly doubted they would be fired for the less than stellar work ethic.

Tom on the other hand could be terminated at the first sign of slack and replaced with any of the hundreds of unemployed and undereducated kids the town seemed to spawn like trash mobs in an JRPG.

He would pity them if they didn't seem to exist for the soul purpose of getting in his way and annoying him.

Realizing how better and petty he sounding in his own thoughts Tom sighed, finished up the row of shingles he was on before flipping the Giant death ball above off with a gloved hand, Tom slipped the hammer into his work belt loop so he wouldn’t lose it and moved carefully towards the ladder.

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OSHA regs said that he needed to be tied on when he was up this high and that he should never work alone, but OSHA didn't pay his bills.

Scrambling down the rickety aluminum extension frame ladder that was leaning against the house Tom waved towards the house blindly as he pulled his gloves off in case the homeowner was watching and made his way over to the truck where it was parked in the scant shade cast by a couple scraggly pine trees that had been planted in an attempt to make the area more ‘park like’ half a century before, the orange cooler of cheap electrolyte replacement drink calling his name and the promised lies of relief from the oppressive heat. Tom poured the yellow liquid into a bottle he had emptied earlier in the morning and drained half of it in one deep pull before swiping his arm across his forehead and sighing.

Despite the ice that had filled the container earlier in the day Tom could tell that the drink was already watered down and getting warm, glancing at the split orange plastic and the exposed insulation he shook his head and took another pull trying not to gag at the lemon-ish flavor, the boss must not be coming in today, he always had a better flavor in the jug when he was going to make an appearance to check on our work and complain about something.

The man always found something to complain about, it was like his entire existence revolved around his ability to complain, he would never be happy without something to bitch about.

Probably why the old coot was on his third marriage all things considered and why rumors were already flying about number three being in talks with a divorce attorney.

Not that it was any of Toms business, he showed up for work and collected his paycheck just like most people, and bitched about those that didn't.

Toms dad had bitched about the lazy asses of Toms generation and Tom bitched about the lazy asses of the younger generation.

Tipping his head back Tom closed his eyes as he emptied the bottle and tried to make believe that things were going to get better, he would make enough to pay off his debts and not have to worry about making ends meet. It was a fantasy that he knew was only slightly less likely than finding some magic silver slippers or a ring of power that could grant him superpowers, but it helped to keep him from the slow slide into depression and alcoholism that many of his family had accepted when the world turned out to be tougher than they thought.

For a brief moment he wished that he could be whisked away to some far off land for an adventure, something, anything to break up the monotony of his everyday life of work, eat, sleep, repeat.

He was young enough that the military was still an option and that would certainly break up the monotony of his life, only to replace it with a different type of repetitive doldrum and lock himself into another stereotype.

Sign up, buy a showroom mustang, marry a stripper from off base, damage his lower back and knees, get bounced out on medical before fighting the VA for the next forty years.

Shaking his head at the bitter turn his mind took Tom banished the thought as he wiped his brow, at least he wasn't threatening to 'Knock out a Drill Instructor if they got in his face' like his cousin had promised before getting onto the bus all those years ago.

Refilling his bottle Tom chuckled as he made a mental note to check up on Jason when he got the time, it was always fun to bring that particular belief up.

For a brief moment as he drank Tom could have sworn he felt a soft cool breeze whisper past his skin.

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