Nightshift
Jun. 22nd, 2006 01:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
abracanabra1:02 a.m. and I'm home from work. I was reminded of the things I used to love about working third shift. In my sneakers, I walk catfooted through shadows and around obstacles. I can hear a leaf rustle two blocks away, but I don't make a sound. I can see into deep shadows, though street lights have rainbow halos. I spot people from blocks and blocks away, but they don't even see me. A light breeze brushes my skin and it feels like a part of me. One of my earliest memories is running outside to play in the darkness--I must have been about four or five years old. I stare at lit windows and make stories of the people who live inside. It's where I'm most comfortable.
Then I come home, and kitten looks worriedly at me from the lit window as I approach the house. Inside, himself mutters at me and smiles dreamily. His kisses smell of alcohol and he tells me that his knees hurt and he's stolen my pillow for them. I put away the remains of a dinner that I didn't eat, wash the dishes, move the laundry into the dryer, and close the downstairs windows.
Then I come home, and kitten looks worriedly at me from the lit window as I approach the house. Inside, himself mutters at me and smiles dreamily. His kisses smell of alcohol and he tells me that his knees hurt and he's stolen my pillow for them. I put away the remains of a dinner that I didn't eat, wash the dishes, move the laundry into the dryer, and close the downstairs windows.