The Joy of Gardening.

Pull the dam thing, tugged and pulses the motor, put both hands behind his back like being hand cuffed and grabbed the handle, trudge, sludge, give it a budge.   Near it, everything dims and swims in the collapsing world of the hypertherm, no sweat, I've gone to far.   Lucky thought he needed to say, to get permission, "need to lay down just for" and crumple in to the cool ground. His right shoulder landed in the soft mud of the well worked soil.  He balanced there, on that thin piece of mud located at the edge of human endurance, that cool mud ,perched four inches deep in the most delightful of locations.