Late Night
July 2005
It is almost silent down here in the industrial estate. The computer hum is much louder than the faint acceleration of cars at a distant traffic light. The chair creaks a little. All the other roller doors have rumbled down, and the alarms ceased to beep. Cold is seeping into the warehouse despite the heater behind me. Update four of twentyfive is beginning, and I am more alone than if I were out-back by a fire. No taxi driver with any sense will come in here tonight. I must walk up the hill in the dark to the main road, and hope I will be ok.
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