hands settle on his hips, dust litters the air like a cloud and he knows he’s got it in his hair and coating his clothes. there’s a scrap or two on his hands, blood already clotting and healing, but still noticeable. it’s been a whole day of wreckage: tearing out a toilet, shower, and the small vanity. the flooring is resting in several buckets and he’s pretty sure this is the second biggest job he’s had to do since he bought the place. the kitchen had taken five whole days to clear out by himself.
a smile graces his features, looking over at buck who’s equally as covered, ❝ WHAT’D’YA say we sweep up then carry the buckets outside to check the pig? ❞
@buckytm