He kept his boots on, despite the fact that both is mother and Mrs. O’Donnell hated when he wore boots in the house after working in the fields. It ...idn’t matter though. Nothing mattered anymore. Taking yet another swallow of the decadent liquid, he finished off his glass. Setting it on his thigh, he let his head roll back, languishing in self pity. Why did everything always happen to him? Did God hate him so damn much? A sudden lurch of rage and self loathing bit into him deeply. If the would. ‘Whatever, there’s not a woman on the planet who could make this uniform look attractive.’ She shucked the vest, lying it in the bagging area and hoping it would help lessen the truth of her words. ‘I don’t know, you seem to be doing a decent job of it, Reanna,’ he said, transferring a dozen cartons of yogurt from his cart to the belt. Speaking of belts, she thought, this thing needs to go. She held up her index finger, then unbuckled it and tugged it off. Naturally, when she turned back. More

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