I was peeling apples at the kitchen table скачать в хорошем качестве

I was peeling apples at the kitchen table

I was peeling apples at the kitchen table I bought in the spring of 1987 with money earned from six months of night shifts at the textile mill. Eleven at night to seven in the morning. Six nights a week. I would leave the house while Ray was still shaving, the bathroom light throwing a yellow rectangle onto the lawn. Every morning I came home smelling of machine oil, scorched cotton lint and overheated metal. My knuckles cracked open in thin red lines every time I made a fist. Dish soap burned like acid in the splits. I learned to wear old cotton gloves when I washed up.