I’m sure the feelings I had when watching him were wrong (by my parent’s standards anyway), but for me they felt right and so I just kept my feelings and opinions to myself. He pulled off his cowboy hat and then his shirt. We wrestled often and I usually lost after giving a good fight. We pooled our crops together and somehow managed to keep the government happy and food on our tables. From a young age I felt I was different in many ways from my friends and school mates. It was secluded, hidden by the shade of a small grove of apple trees and was the perfect place for teen age boys to hide in order to get out of work. Being a farming family wasn’t a choice it was a mandate by the government and a way to fulfill your civic duty to the masses. He stood six foot tall and even as an eighteen year old he was filled out with broad shoulders and a washboard stomach.
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