Things Unseen

My alarm goes off at 4 am on a Wednesday and I wish I could say it went off by mistake. I wish I had no reason to be up before the sun. I stare into the swirling darkness of my shadowy ceiling fan as faint moonlight slips through the curtains illuminating it just enough for my bleary eyes to see it move. Taking a deep sigh of groggy exhaustion, I roll over to check my phone. If blue light keeps you awake at night, surely it could help on this dismal morning.

Scrolling through notifications, updating a few games, I watch the clock tick on. Musing to myself about how digital clocks don't tick, but we still use the phrase, I drag myself into a sitting position, deciding I'd wasted enough time already. "4:15 am if far too early," I murmur to myself.

I switch on the light and get ready for work. No office job would necessitate this awfully early arousal, so it isn't for a dress or a skirt that I reach in my closet. No, it is for my trusty pocketed leggings. Men may think that cargo shorts are the most practical clothing item on the market, but they are wrong. The stretchy fabric and deep side pockets of a girl's favorite leggings take the cake, and lift it too, if you know what I mean.

Grabbing a protein bar as I pass my moonlit, messy kitchen, I go out the back door and towards the garage. As long as I live here, I will never be used to this weird set up. I love where I live and it's far nicer than you'd expect for the rent we pay, but would it really have been so hard for there to be a door connecting the house and the garage like every other residential structure? The cold breeze ruffles my light jacket as I walk across the back porch to the entry door to the garage. I dislike the breeze, but it reminds me that 28 degrees in January is far warmer than it should be. To the east, the Rocky Mountains beg for the snow they desperately need.

Climbing into my car, I know that I'm not helping, but there's little I can do. If I could afford a Tesla or some other electric car, I wouldn't be working at a warehouse an hour away before even public transit starts to run. Turning on the heater, and blasting my favorite radio station to wake me up, I pull out of the drive way. 176,723 miles on the pedometer. I glance at the oil change sticker in the corner of my windshield. "Next oil change due at 174,680," it reads. Guess I know what I'm doing this weekend.

I pull onto the interstate, heading north. Mentally, turning on autopilot, I muse to myself as I wind down the dark, empty road. As strange as it is, I prefer night driving to day driving. Sure, it has it's risks, but everything does. In the middle of the night there are no cars, and therefore no morons to blindly cut you off. This 5 lane road is yours for the taking. The shadows add a mysteriously strange view to watch as you pass, alluding to wildlife and a world that touches mankind's but stays distinctly it's own.

As I reach exit 305, I pull off the highway and into a grungy industrial district in South Salt Lake. I turn left, taking the route that doesn't go under the bridge. A large homeless camp has developed there and especially in the dark, its hard to see if anyone is in the road, which they usually are. Even if I did successfully manage to navigate through without hurting anyone, this time of year, there's usually multiple fires going, sometimes in the middle of the road. The last thing I want is to hurt someone, and the second to last thing I want is to make my car explode but driving over an open flame. Perhaps it's paranoia, but the longer route is the better route at least until daylight.

I park my car street side. Putting on my mask, I enter the building by scanning my key card. It appears that I'm the first one in as all the lights are off. I turn them on walking through the one carpeted room that asks as a lobby of sorts for delivery drivers putting up orders into the warehouse room that stocks our digital store. Familiarity returns as lights reveal the shelves. Returning to the front to clock in on one of the computers, I check my email.

THUD!

A loud noise comes from near the fridges. Panicking, I think to myself what to do. If there's someone or something back there, I don't want it to know I'm here. I message my team on slack, silently screaming, "Is anyone else here? I thought I was alone, but I heard a loud thud..." I think back on when I heard a fridge open and close on it's own a few months back. Reminding myself to be sane and rational, the front door opens.

"Good morning!" Lynne greets me cheerfully, the only other person working the 5:45 am shift.

I delete my message. No need to scare anyone, I think to myself. "Morning! How are you?" I glance away from her into the warehouse, eyeing it for signs of movement. A few receipts flutter as the gust of air that accompanied Lynne finally reaches them, but nothing else does. Shaking my head, I turn back to my computer. If a noise goes off in a warehouse, and I'm the only one who heard it, did it even really happen?