Just an ordinary working stiff.
Workin' the graveyard shift.
The company's her only social life.
A chance to meet people.
Make friends.
Feel like she's actually a part of the city.
-----
Then...
Four crimes in four days.
One thwarted without photographic evidence.
One captured on film as she's almost beaten with a hammer.
One that sees the CEO mugged as the police drive away.
And one that sees two people dead and the company robbed blind.
The office closes to take stock and bounce back.
Until then.
Head home.
Sit tight.
-----
Without a paycheck, she broods in her apartment.
Thinking back to her first career in Reno - times of happy competence.
Her first love.
She meets a stranger in the wilds of Rockford Hills.
A voice beyond the stress of the moment.
Something trips inside of her as she offers words of wisdom.
Determined, she goes back to her apartment.
She goes back to her roots.
Finds another in need of tender care.
A workhorse, built in '87, from a nation once ascendant.
She sources the parts, studies the manuals.
Over dark, siren filled nights;
She toils under dingy sodium lamps.
-----
To the mountains she goes.
Away from the city.
Away from the heartache.
Her, and the machine - at least for a little while.
Work... that'll come soon enough.