I rarely work on Sundays, but had to go in today. On my way in, I meet a friend, a Spanish-speaking migrant who, like so many, does landscaping work in town.
“I have to work today,” I complain. “I hate working Sundays.” It’s a tone-deaf comment. He has to work himself.
”I work every day,” he rejoins matter-of-factly. “I have no day of rest.”
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