Nightsky Saving Time
I get up early so I can see the sun going down. I grind my coffee and hear the city wake up outside my window. I do my workout, lose track of time, grab my coffee, forget my bike light upstairs, go back up and get it. I spit grounds out as I weave through delivery trucks and mothers on their evening glostick runs. I make it to work five minutes late. Kimberly covered for me like she always does. It’s almost labour day weekend and the tanning salon is busy with people baking themselves before heading off to Fang Cave Fun Fest up north.
Before I have time for a break it’s midnight and I’m taking my lunch. I tap through Snapchat. Georgia is in France on vacation. She’s dancing in the sun with shirtless men. I smirk but feel sympathy burn on my skin. Georgia has always liked staying up all day. She’s always been reckless. After lunch a bed breaks down. I try to fix it myself but the thing starts smoking. I call a repair guy but he won’t get there until four in the morning, after my shift is over. I tape an Out of Order sign to it and spend the rest of the Aftermidnight watching Georgia dance with French men on Snapchat. My boss comes in and catches me, says he’ll put me on the funeral shift at the other location downtown if he catches me again. Guy is an asshole. The girl with red curly hair comes in and flirts with me. She’s nice but too tanned. I dream of a pale girl coming in, but they’re only pale the first time.
I ride home before the sun comes up. I pass people already night-drunk. I put on sunscreen and hate–watch All DAY in Alaska on TLC. I pull my blinds shut as the sky goes navy. Tomorrow night there will be an extra hour of darkness.