Exhaustion

There are these bunch of guys and they think they know everything about loading. They've been loading what? Three years, five at the tops. Post office loaders...in Texas. Eighteen straps they say. No one has eighteen straps. Sixteen I say. Eighteen they say. And it takes the whole enitre day. One word, just one little word like the snap of a twig in the desert: Fucking asshole. (God Damn Fucking Asshole) Later on in the quasi dark of the truck stop, pull in face forward because that's all that's left out here and inside too. Just pull in, pee in the gallon container so rank, gagging, and then fall onto the bunk and pull my knees up. Both trucks idling alongside, the light off the pole shining in the slit of the upper bunk window. Sleep reaches up from the center with both hands and yanks me down.