Between shifts
There are a group of women outside on the lawn by the dining hall, lying on their bellies under the shade of the trees in their white smocks and white hair-caps, twirling blades of grass in their fingers.
The lunch shift is over, and the dinner shift still a comfortable distance away. For these few hours work has no hold over them, and their laughter keeps me company as I make my way across campus.
The lunch shift is over, and the dinner shift still a comfortable distance away. For these few hours work has no hold over them, and their laughter keeps me company as I make my way across campus.

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