Grace Hudgins

An Opaque Present

The smog was unusually dense for 4 A.M. as the factories were at minimal output during the night shift. I sucked in a deep breath anyway. The quietness was a relief to my pounding headache but this would be short-lived. I couldn’t exactly place why I had always had enjoyed these few fleeting moments of peace and unproduction this early. Nonetheless, it would soon end as the other morning Workers arose.