Favorite Blog: STREETBLOWJOBS STREET BLOWJOBS stood at held out breaths every moment it took the moving team to hoist the house off its foundations and on to the monster flat-bed truck. That it managed to get up there in one piece amazed me completely. The engineers and movers handled the procedure with clock-work like efficiency. It took them almost three agonizing hours just to get it on the truck; it would take them another four to drive it a kilometre down the road to Mrs. Kendall's property and another three more to settle the house on its new foundations.
Daniel was in the thick of it all and I could hear his laughter and shouts of encouragement from where I stood. Occasionally he'd look back to see if Mrs. Kendall and I still watched. We both waved cheerfully at him, although the cold bit me fiercely and my body ached.
"What's wrong, Clara?" Mrs. Kendall asked after my third or fourth heavy sigh. "Is something wrong?"
"I don't know," I confessed, rubbing at the ache in the small of my back from standing in one spot for so long. "I've been so tired lately, dizzy sometimes, and nauseous too. I think I'm coming down with the flu. Daniel thinks I've been working too hard, but I don't think so. I don't know - it's weird."
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