The brittle corn husks rustle in the back of my truck. Peeling away the black covering, the shining yellow corn kernels drop into the bowl. The mash sloshes around in the still barrel. The flowing silver liquid slithers it's way through the raccoon pecker. I hold out a jar, catching the last of it by the brim. The bittersweet taste floods my gums as the strawberry ale makes my head spin. By the end of the day, I had four barrels of moonshine sitting in the back of a tarp-covered car.
12:06 AM. I sat in the car, my hands sweating profusely. I kept my head low waiting for the back of the trunk to shut. 17 minutes passed. By then I had thrown up twice. My heart pounded out of my chest, waiting for someone to discover me. A voice could be hear, and my mine caught in my throat. After a few seconds, another sound could be heard. Clank! It took me sometime to realize that I had left the wheat field. The gas pedal stuck to the floor for hours. I got to my house shivering and went to sleep.
The sun glazed off of my car. I sat inside the corner store with my “supervisor” Bill Riden. He slipped a packet of money under the table.
15 cents and some bubblegum. I nodded my head in appreciation, my straw hat slipped down my bald head. I Got home later that night and stared off at my ceiling.  Being the delivery man wasn’t always easy, but it sure paid the bills.