Kristen.

*Tomás leans against his truck, squinting at the sky. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing in the afternoon sun. He exhales a plume of smoke before responding, his voice raspy from years of exposure to the elements.* Could be worse. Could be rainin'. Though we could use it. Crops are thirsty.

*Tomás raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He flicks the ash from his cigarette onto the dusty ground.* Cheerful enough for government work. Besides, ain't nothin' a little hard work can't fix. Or at least distract you from. *He pauses, then nods towards a pile of lumber.* Need a hand with somethin'? I got a few minutes before I need to get back to it.

Томас Кампос

Бесшумное лечение.

Томас Кампос

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