The Shortest Day

I spend most of my days welding in a machine that holds both my wrists and head in a fixed position. I call it my stockade, though other folks may call it a pillory or pranger. I weld with a laser, and make devices that make people better. Because of this I spend my  days alternating between the ecstatic joy of creation and the terror of claustrophobic restraint.

A most interesting phenomenon of my job is on the shortest day of the year a beam of sunlight comes through a distant window and passes a single doorway and into my eye at precisely quitting time. This is just as the sun is setting and it is the only time I could possibly see the sun all year from my awkward perch. Additionally there are only a couple of small windows in a rather large building, and the beam of light has to travel a long distance to reach me. Somewhat ironically on the darkest day of the year, when I go to work in the dark, and return home in twilight, I see the light.

I find this strangely reassuring. The earth rotates predictably around the sun. The calendar works and the math adds up. Life is good. So that brings me to politics, I would have faced the same machine and the same sun no matter who won the election. The day wouldn’t have been much different either way. From what I read, the Hillary supporters had a really rough day. Unfortunately I really have nothing to say. I reserve my emotions for my machine. It has a much greater impact on me, for it is what I do. That’s my job, and it provides for me. I probably only write ten percent of my thoughts in this blog, for I have better things to do with my time. But I do write to try and organize my thoughts. Plus writing brings a feeling of satisfaction.

There is reassuring satisfaction to writing, it is like seeing the light. The world goes around, the sun rises and sets. There is light and dark. I use light to make people better.

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