Traffic at this time of the morning is mostly trains. Heavy rumbles of solid metal thunder grumbling too far away to hear properly, fog horns mournful through the record scratch sound of violent heavy rain. If I were to speak, my voice would be a surprising sound, something too big for the space of my hearing to encompass without setting off a quickened heartbeat.
Even my music is off.
Ryan is asleep and recovering from being mildly ill. This was ostensibly to be his last day at work, but they decided to have him on a couple more days before his contract with them runs out. Hours are welcome, he says, and I believe him. We are young and finances not bright. The jobs we have are tenuous, the jobs we have [are/our] small grinding wheels. I don’t have the skills to find myself something better and currently it seems he doesn’t have the will.
(quicktime here).
Respirocytes – Designing an Artificial Red Cell.
Concern is dawning.