Working nights puts you out of sync with the real world.
You make dinner before noon, sleep through the 6 o’clock news, head to the job as others get ready for bed.
This morning, I finished early and left the store a couple of hours before dawn. A big yellow moon floated just above the horizon as I drove home in the dark.
During my 15-minute commute through suburbia, I didn’t pass a single vehicle. Not another night worker, not a delivery truck, not a police cruiser. Nothing. No one.
It was just me and the moon.
The solitude was unnatural, even for someone accustomed to the night shift. I couldn’t help but think of the business that wasn’t being transacted, the young people who weren’t carousing, the pastors who weren’t polishing Sunday sermons, the trysts that were just wishful thinking.
Empty suburban streets are not as dramatic as empty baseball stadiums or an empty Times Square. But over time, the setting has become the lesser part of the equation. It’s the emptiness that resounds.
The whole world is out of sync.
Beautifully said and written; your words really resonated with me.