The Sound of the Automated Roller Shutter

Dear Delyara, At 1:55 AM, the main delivery door of the adjacent printing warehouse opened automatically to let a lone courier van inside, its metal tracks screeching with a dry, ungreased groan that echoed across the tarmac. The sheer volume of the sound made my teeth ache. I watched the heavy steel shutter slowly roll back down, sealing the vehicle inside its warm, lit interior while I remained outside in the cold lane with my clipboard. That sudden movement was the only human activity this yard will see for the next four hours. There is a deep, isolating finality to that sound—the world locking its doors against the night while you are left outside to patrol the perimeter. I turned my back to the warehouse and continued my lap, counting my steps to keep my thoughts from drifting into anger.