Arpin’s (Refrigerator) Doors Are Always Open
A trickle of sweat crisscrosses its way down his forehead, and rests on his upper lip. He can taste the saltiness of it, and his mind wanders to imaginings of cool water. Reaching behind him, he pauses to unstick the shirt from his back. Above, the sun beats down at high noon, and the temperature continues to escalate past a sizzling 100 degrees. Despite feeling lightheaded, he pushes onward. With an empty stomach, the laborer feels compelled to continue without a break for food or drink, so as to honor the beliefs engrained in him from birth.