It was early morning and Jim was standing outside the familiar locked gate at Netwark docks. As the sun appeared in the east. The foreman. Jake. Walked up. Jim put his broken hand behind him. The doctor had said it would be useless for months.
One, two, three . as usual. Jake walked along the group, pointing to the workers he wanted. Five,six,seven. Jim stood tall. Eight . Jake’s eyes fell on Jim. Then the foreman pointed at him. Nine.
Stepped forward, knowing that he was one of the lucky few who had work that day.