Rhythm in the Sheet Metal

The condensation gathered at the bend of the overhead copper pipe. A single drop broke away, striking the galvanized lid of the air conditioner beside the rail. Sharp ping. A second followed four beats later. I stepped across the gap from the pulley bracket, planting my boots firmly on the corrugated metal. The unit sat cold beneath the morning air, coated in a fine layer of soot. Crouching low, I flattened my gloved palm against the steel intake grille, waiting. A faint electric tremor pulsed through the internal coil, answering the first rumble of morning traffic below. Grounded. Steady.