Prompt: Pitch | Genre: Drama | Word count: 200 words
“You are still coughing?” his wife rushed out of their hut and knelt by his cot.
Kishanlal winced, realizing his ruse hadn’t worked.
“Just a little”, he said not meeting her eyes.
His wife snorted, “Yeah and the sun rose from the west today, huh?”
“Be quiet!” he whispered. “The children will hear you.”
They sat there for a while, hearing their village wake up around them.
“Was there blood this time?” she asked.
“No”
“Don’t lie to me!”
“I’m not.”
“So does that mean you are getting better?”, she sat up straighter, her eyes wide with hope.
He smiled, nodded, and looked away.
* * *
“So did you talk to seth ji?”“No.”
“What? Why not? Your son will not get another chance. There are a lot of people dying to get this job.”
Kishanlal coughed until he doubled over, holding a handkerchief over his mouth. It came away red.
“I am dying because of this job,” Kishanlal said as he swirled the hot coal tar pitch meant to pave the road.
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