Nothing like Home

"Aw, crud."

Raymond grumbled a little at himself, stooping to peer beneath the table. This little piece of chewer was particularly stubborn. His fingers already had a tight grip on the gum - but the now-tacky glob wouldn't move. Time to bring out the big boys, then. Raymond stood back up, and after some rifling in his bag, laid his hands on a big piece of heavy duty metal. It was a little warmed, having been in his bag during the hot summer day, but not too hot to the touch. With one hand on the edge of the table, one hand gripping the metal scraper, Raymond pushed - and the gum scraped off, leaving only a semi-sticky smear on the underside of the wood. 

Raymond wiped away the sweat on his forehead. It was a hot day, and he was a big man. Encased in the thin - but not quite breathable - green-gray zippered uniform of the park worker, Raymond stood, his form not exactly lumbering, but close. Sweat continued to bead out from his very pores, and he swiped a hand through his short brown hair, seeking relief. He squinted his eyes at the sun, he decided to take a break. The scrawny-faced Jackson wasn't here, and the heat'll only help the gum melt faster, after all. Excuses given, Raymond sat down heavily by the picnic table, and turned his attention towards the kids playing on the playground. 

The End

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