Excerpt: Rads Dream

…There he was, perched over the drafting table. His eyepiece pressed to his face. He followed the trace, looking for any flaws. Over and over. He couldn’t help but think of his home. How generations ago, no one would have sat there. How at night, one could hear nature over traffic. What life was like without streetlight. His mind wandered on, the invisible drum, his job marched by. He sat there amid rows of tables, the only man. His co-workers always offered him lumpia, and asked personal questions, not trying to get to know him. Soon his shift would be over, and he would begin his walk home. It was never certain which night he would be stopped by police, but he would be, every few days; for no other reason, than it was 3am and he was walking. He would walk from the industry, through the farmland, back to suburbia, to his apartment, where he would do it all again in a few hours. “Maybe I’ll go to the diner after work.” he thought. He could probably get there around four am. Maybe he could talk to Max. Max was an old timer, he remembered the family stories, and he knew all the old places. The whistle sounded, and Rad woke from his dream. Shaking off the memories of a life past, he looked out the window, at the large mountain atop the ocean. Smiled inwardly, stepping over his bed to set the water to boil. Today will be a good day! He picked up the phone, and rang Teller…

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