Some nights, I’d limp home. It was always rewarding when the van was empty or quiet: a moment to think without interruption. I’d shut the door, rather I’d slam it because it never shut easily in its warped and rusted state, grab my gear, and immediately relocate to somewhere warm and quiet. If I was lucky, Nick would follow quickly and we’d watch a movie, rant about the day, and repeat. Sometimes Beth and Lyssa would join us, rarer still Eric and Sunshine too. Quesadillas were a common staple in between it all.
Other nights, the sky would light up, the aurora would dance, the day was short and we’d run and play instead of slave away, we’d eat fudge until we got sick… but most nights involved Midnight Sun Brewery and Sharknado.