THE DULL CLUNK OF THE KETTLE SWITCH

Dear Delyara, The small plastic kettle on the corner shelf has just finished boiling, the heavy plastic switch flipping up with a loud, hollow clunk that signals the end of its cycle. I didn't even make the coffee. I just stood there watching the white steam pour out of the spout, curling up against the stained acoustic tiles of the ceiling until it disappeared into the grease and the dust. The sound of that switch is the only punctuation mark in an otherwise endless sentence of silence. It tells you another hour has passed, another routine task has been completed, and you are sixty minutes closer to the morning shift change when you can finally hide your face from the world.