It;s written by Erin Soros. How would rate it out of 100 ?
We called him Moon and Eight Ball and Pinball, his head so bald and shining that no name would
stick.
You remember Moon. He'd come to the BC coast with plans to make enough money to buy a
house. Moon was one of the hardest working chokermen this camp had seen. The other loggers
marveled at how much his head would sweat when he worked. His baldness stuck out of his
blanket when he slept and we'd take a bit of charcoal to decorate it with a smiling face. When the
steam donkey rolled over to crush him, all that had escaped was his bald head and it was
screaming. Moon's body was under the machine. He had fallen into a depression in the ground, a
natural grave that was deep enough to keep him from dying but not deep enough to keep him
alive.
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