This scene kept running through my mind. Honestly.
After fifteen minutes of this, I started to tire. Mentally and physically. Keith was as calm and collected as ever. I kept looking at the clock. I was embarrassed by my thoughts. You can handle this, Emily. You're not a wimp. I kept having to look up from getting dizzy. Thoughts of "I don't know how I'm going to keep doing this for so long." I forced myself to think of those souls all around the world who would eat these peaches. The hungry children. That I had a part in this. That I was doing this for Jesus. Feeling bad for all the times I took for granted those assembly line workers who day in and day out do this menial work to put food on our tables and their tables. I tried to swallow my pride.
Anyway, an hour or so went by. I was lost in my thoughts and those peaches. I looked up at Keith. He was as white as a sheet. "I'm sick" he mouths. Poor guy. He didn't want to leave me high and dry. At my urging, he meekly (and with a little bit of urgency, if you know what I mean) walked away.
Thankfully, I took a break when the supervisor came up to me perplexed and asked, "Vere is your husband?". After looking around a bit, I discovered that the truck was gone.
Since he had two new guys take my place, I was so relieved that I could now switch jobs and become a pit-picker-outer. Still more dizzying conveyor belts, but this time a stool and more variety.