Post ideas drift around my brain, but none float readily to the surface. For once the television is off and the bunk room dark. After a busy evening, Sin City sleeps. I tap my soft keyboard in silence.
The night dispatcher’s voice, normally shrill and grating, is a soft murmur over the garage speakers as she directs a bit of activity in another city. I must find out how we achieved that small miracle. The HVAC whooshes gently, and I wonder how long the moment can last.
I was working on a Friday post, but we suddenly got busy until after midnight. My Friday doesn’t end until shift change at 0700 though.