I Hope I didn’t Just Give Away the Ending

For the entirety of this month I’ve been working the night shift. Going in at seven pm, working until eight am, and then doing it again. 13 on, 11 off, 5 days a week.

I would usually get a few hours of disjointed sleep between one and five am. I’d go home, be up for a while, and then sleep from ten until two. After a bit, I grew used to the split schedule of sleeping four hours, twice a day.

I say this for both your pity and as a way of offering a possible explanation for the way time has slowed down in the story. I think my constant twilight left me in a perpetual limbo where time moved forward in ultra-slow-motion. This entire month has been spent covering a rather uneventful 7 hours from Monday on July 18th of last summer.


At this point, I am left with a decision. I can either stop this little mini-arc of a day within the story that is, in fairness to myself, setting things up nicely. Or I can finish this day before progressing through the story.

My decision is to finish the day. It will introduce the one other character that plays an important role but whom you have not met: My other intern, the bumbling one. After that, the only person yet for you to meet is a bit part and his role is solely as an object for my (mis)diagnosis.

So there you are, and here we go.