He'd thought this was supposed to be a tropical island paradise. Why was he sitting here freezing half to death then?
He huddled down and pulled the garbage-bag-transformed-into-a-raincoat tigheter about him, sheltering from the rain pounding down upon him. Cold... the one thing he'd never imagined he'd feel working in this sunny isle.
But he hadn't reckoned on the monsoon seasons. Hadn't factored that into his thoughts when he took the job. And now here he sat, huddled in the back of the lorry with a dozen other men in the same plight.
To make it worse, it would be months before he'd see a dime from that paycheck, with every penny of it going back to the wife and kids before he even saw a bit of it. Life, he was discovering, is not even. Not even in Paradise.
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