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The steel beam weighed heavily on the workbench, another in the day's batch. Ravi had dozens more cuts to cut before clock-out, and the Riyadh sun beat down without mercy on the iron roof, making the workshop an oven.<br><br>He could nearly taste the sweet, chilled laban he'd rewarded himself with after completing this batch. Hundreds of times, he'd fed the torch back and forth over metal like this, the process nearly a trance.
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