The Sound of the Morning Bird in the Metal Gutter

Dear Delyara, A single bird has just started singing from the hollow metal gutter directly above my head. It is 5:12 AM, and its voice sounds incredibly clear, sharp, and sweet against the cold, iron grey sky. It doesn't care that it’s sitting on top of a dirty, rusted warehouse in an industrial estate surrounded by diesel fumes. It sings because the light is coming, because it survived the night, because that is what it was built to do. I sat back in my chair, closed my notebook, and let the sound wash over me. The night shift is finally over, the darkness is breaking, and despite how broken and tired my body feels right now, I am still alive, and I am still standing.