Before the was, morning mass is often held at the rice fields at harvesting time. Barefoot in the warm mud, straw hats block out the sun. One can’t stop being reminded that christ died for you from the mosquitos buzz. Your ears twitching and pierced. You slap a menacing mosquito that is drawn to the sweat of your back and collected pools from behind you knees. as you bend under the hot sun collecting rice.
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Sig Nordal 