Air Line Percussion

Standing atop the towering tire stack, my boots had solid traction on the heavy grooved tread. Right beside my perch ran a coiled pneumatic air hose, hung from an overhead steel suspension rail. It swayed slightly in the noon cross-draft. I didn't let it drift idle. Reaching out with both hands, I caught the ribbed blue rubber line and pulled it taut against an empty metal rim flange. I drew the steel cotter pin from my waist and struck the pressurized brass quick-connect fitting hanging at the hose tip. Ting-whistle-snap! A bright, razor-sharp metallic pop bounced right off the corrugated steel ceiling, cutting clean through the depot's midday lull. Sharp recoil. Rhythm locked.