The Humming Grille

A steady, dull vibration led me further down the alley to the rear of a freestanding drink machine. I bumped slowly across the cracked asphalt, rocking side to side until I wedged my round body into the narrow clearance beneath its lower skirt. A black wire cage protected the compressor compartment, puffing a faint, steady draft of warm air into the damp shade. Behind the mesh, a copper capillary tube looped around a small brass cylinder, vibrating with every stroke of the motor. I anchored my weight flat against the curb and leaned firmly into the warm metal grille, letting the mechanical pulse shudder through me.