Cedar Dust and Sore Shoulders

She heard the saw cease its whirring.

Her love stomped in, dewdrops of sweat lining his creased forehead, clutching a crude cedar carving of a heart.

He had suffered so much, and still laboured under the weight of the memories, but today, it seemed, his stomps fell a little lighter.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

This story is based on a title suggested by @PoshPlatypus.

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