About the work

It was his favorite part of the day, even if it meant a plastic-wrapped sandwich eaten on a plastic stool. He had bought it from the stall with the green awning, same place he always did, the one run by the woman who knew his order. The crane, his crane, stood quiet, its massive hook a silent companion. He often wondered what it dreamt of during these lulls, a colossal bird of prey resting between hunts. He never knew what he'd do if it ever just… didn’t start up again.