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photo copyright by Sandra Crook

I haven’t had a chance to read anyone else’s story before posting mine. Hopefully this idea hasn’t been done too many times. 🙂

Buried

So many things I could’ve done.

“Don’t drive so close,” from my wife next to me.

“You really shouldn’t try to text and drive,” said my mother in the back.

“Is that bale moving? Hey, Dad, maybe we should take a different road.”

I hate back seat drivers. Always so much smarter than the person actually driving. But I sure showed them.

“Any idea how long it’ll take to move it all? It’s getting hard to breath.”

“Dad, my head hurts. I think I need to throw up.”

“Honey, are you even listening? Dave? Dave!”

No more worries for me.

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