Anything Untoward

Posted: August 18, 2014 in Uncategorized

In the empty street darkness of the morning I arrived to relieve my associate from the long night. He was desperate to get home, to get away from the graveyard boredom, but the necessity for human contact led him to stand around and chat for an hour past his clock-out time. He followed me as I checked inventory, refilled the coffee pot, and already settled into the numbness of the first half of my shift. A couple hours from now would be different, and so I was not as desperate for interaction as he was, but it had been four hours since he’d seen another person, and his paid task was merely to be present on the chance that someone might arrive. Since that someone was me, he took what he got, and we talked awkwardly about his life and when he might move on to something a bit more personally satisfying career-wise. Soon, he said, looking out the window as if he already had something in mind. Soon. By the time I quit working there eight months later, he was still working there, holding on long enough to take my shift in my absence.

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