Night Worker
Night Worker Her job, to mop out cubicles. Fifty-four pans to bleach, ten sinks to scrub. She hates it all— the hairs, the slime, the stink catching her throat. Tonight it’s Saturday and worse than usual. She stops, straightens her back and stares through a skylight at the stars. They remind her of a lad she was once in love with who tried to teach her the constellations when all she wanted was sex then fish and chips at Bob’s—those hot parcels soggy with beautiful vinegar an