Tractor Files Part 1:
I met this little number on a steamy summer morning. The fog still lay thick over the dew slick grass. My uncle introduced us, her and I were to weed row after row, just the two of us, no one else around for hours. He dropped me off and as he drove away we got acquainted. She was no spring chicken and it took a few tries to get her going, but once she got started it was like we'd known each other for years. After about half we worked into a rhythm that could be described as "comfortable numb." The vibrations from row after row slowly lulling me into a drowsy state. She didn't take to much looking after so when I nodded off for a minute she just kept going, mind you not in the same direction I left her in. I tried to cover up the mistake by running back over the same row and smoothing out the damage, but alas, the evidence of my transgression was writ into the earth for all to see.