The Emerald

“Dig deeper!” he yelled from behind me. 

“I am!” I peered down into the hole before me. I saw only profound darkness. 

I stood quickly with a look of consternation. My boss was only a few inches taller than me, which wasn’t saying much.

“You need to finish the job! The emeralds down there aren’t going to mine themselves!” He glanced at his pocket watch, then toward the evening sky. The sun’s hasty approach at the mountain’s jagged cliff was a reminder to stay focused.

I sighed, heaved my axe, and slammed it down. The crevice cracked open, exposing the green gems beneath to the final light of the day.

I smiled, reached down with my pint-sized hands, and lifted an emerald the size of a small boulder. I handed the precious stone to the man and folded my arms across my chest.

“It’s all yours. I’m going home.” I grabbed my walking stick and trekked to the foot of the mountain. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew this wasn’t where I wanted to be. It never was, and never would be.

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