The bell rang: end of shift. Dawson hefted his battleaxe for one more blow, but Alvin smacked his hardhat.
"Don't give Harris any more excuses to file grievances on you," he said. "No unauthorized overtime. Shift's over; it's someone else's problem."
Dawson sighed. "I know. I just feel... responsible. We're already two weeks behind target. If we don't get at least through the mandibular ligaments by the holiday break..."
"Look," Alvin said, "you can't take it personal. It's a big job, but none of us has to do it alone. Trust the other guys. C'mon, I''ll buy you a beer."
The Shoveller Of Widdecombe Ditch (Trad.)
4 hours ago