(LOCKE)
Corrine picks up a book that has been lying on the ground. "Two more handfuls. It has to be seven inches deep."
"How do I measure?" I look at her.
She immediately hands me a ruler, and I stare at it. "Have you been carrying that around?"
"Yes?" she answers cautiously.
I give her one last look before proceeding to dig the hole.
"You have to make it even." She's looking over my shoulder, and I get my hackles up.
"Let me do what I'm doing."
"But you're not doing it right," she complains.
I look over my shoulder at her, incredulous. "I'm on the ground, digging you a hole, and all you can do is criticize?"
She flushes. "Well, no. I didn't mean it like that."
"Then just shut up and let me do this."
She stops nitpicking, but I can feel the anxiety pouring out of her from behind me. All I'm doing is digging in the dirt, yet it's the most stressful thing I've done all day. It almost feels like she can't wait to yank me away and start doing it herself.
