Body aching, covered in dirt, like I had died, was buried, dug back up then ran over me with a truck.
Trying to get my bearings I look across the Idaho landscape, not a soul in site with the exception of a tractor pulling a trailer in the distance.
A brisk breeze loosens some of the dirt packed in my oversized ears.
What the hell happened? Reminiscent of what Mum used to say, “your ears are so dirty you could grow potatoes in there”, Surprised none got in my mouth.
Getting to my feet I brush my white gloves off put on my black hat, and look down to see my still surprisingly clean starched blue trousers are none the worse for wear. I start making my way down the wheel worn grass trail.
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