He checked his clipboard, already done with the conversation. “Why don’t you head back, sir. It’s noisy out here.” Walter opened his mouth to argue, but the man had turned away, shouting at another worker. The engines roared again.
Walter walked home slower than usual, his shoes coated in pale dust from the road. The low hum of machinery followed him up the hill, steady and relentless, like a headache that never eased. He’d tried everything; talking to the crew, to the foreman, even the county office. Every time, he got the same polite shrug. Nothing we can do, sir.