Hannah Grace
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The Nordic Legend
The sweat dripped from her brow as the glaring afternoon sun burned her skin. Yet that was the least of her worries. For years she’d succumbed to the rough and scorching terrain, of the Sicilian coastline, and had obtained enough freckles to prove it. For years she’d persevered through the dreadful aches in her joints, enough to put an elderly to shame; nevertheless, that was all a part of the job and all a part of the thrill and adrenaline that coursed through her veins on a day-to-day basis. Any archaeologist would agree that digging was as addictive as gambling. Each day was a new day and in it lay the possibility of it being the day that one would unearth what that had lay untouched for centuries. Her father had always said, “if you give up now another fool will come along and brush away an inch of dirt to reveal what you’d been searching in for the past four metres.”
By Hannah Grace3 years ago in Humans