Night Wedge

The scrub brush dried against the zinc basin, leaving the wash corner clean. Night brought a steady draft beneath the depot roll-up shutter. Instead of climbing back up toward the loud ventilation louvers, I tracked the warmth down to an insulated copper water pipe running along the concrete wall. Tucked in the crook behind the pipe bracket was an abandoned rubber plumbing washer, thick and dense. I kicked my boots against the damp floor, wedged the rubber disk firmly into the hollow seam, and leaned my shoulder back against the warm insulated sleeve. Solid dampening, zero clatter. Station held for the night.