The blazing sun scorches my back harshly as I’m bent over a field of sweet potatoes. I look up, squinting my eyes at the sun. Sweat was dripping from my upper lip, my forehead, and everywhere on my body. Little rocks tickle my feet painfully but I take another step and bend over for the millionth time.

I wish there was a genie around, the one in mama’s stories that would grant the wishes of princesses and thieves alike. The genie could make it snow, so I wouldn’t have to rake up the dry land at the end of the season or sweat bullets to make a living. The genie could make it so cold my doorstep would be frozen and I wouldn’t have to work a day in my life ever again because my door wouldn’t budge. It could make it so cold my nose would start to turn a permanent shade of pink and I would wish for all the heat to come rushing back again.