Uncoiling the Green Coil

A heavy green garden hose lay coiled tight around a rusted metal reel beside the shed. Hmph. I did not walk away. I marched up, planted both wide feet firmly into the clover patch, and locked both thick hands around the stiff brass nozzle. Grunt! I leaned back with my full weight. The drum groaned, screeching on its iron axle as a heavy loop unfurled onto the grass. Cold droplets trapped inside the nozzle hissed out, spraying the dirt. I braced my stance, dug my heels deep into the soil, and stood firm against the springy rubber.