Four Nights

She did four days of nights.

It was the best thing for her; she believed that the way she believed in handwashing. Nights emptied you. There was a stabbing on the Tuesday. On the Wednesday, a scaffolder off a fifth floor, who she lost at four in the morning and would carry around for a month. By Friday the house on the water had gone the way things go when you are working — not forgotten, but filed somewhere with the lid on.