Jack polished the glass until his watch beeped to signal it was time for lunch. Half of the cucumber sandwich he kept for himself, but the first half he tore into crumbles and tossed onto his scaffolding. Soon, a black crow, friend to every polisher, perched next to him to share in the worker’s meal.
“The sky above the wild lands across the river looks brimming with dust, crow.” Jack mumbled through a bite of bread, cucumber and cheese. “A wicked storm’s brewing, and I’d hate to have your feathers once it gets here. One never can tell what the wind will bring along with the dirt.”
Jack decided to give the crow what remained of his sandwich. He never really enjoyed all the cucumber sandwiches Linda packed for him.
“Yeah, crow, that coming dust storm looks like it’s going to be a massive one. All the polishers are going to be working overtime to keep all the glass in front of them nice and polished. The winds are going to be rough. The dust is going to scrape the skin. The lift men are going to make fortunes carrying the polishers up in their cages. I don’t envy you or the polishers one bit, crow.”
Jack didn’t pick up his mop after he finished what remained of his lime-flavored, carbonated water. Instead, he climbed upon the top railing of his scaffold and gave the river another look. It was the middle of the day. Like always just before the dust arrived, it was very sunny. Jack couldn’t determine if the Crystal Palace’s neon signs glowed. The tower’s glass at his back was blinding for its reflection after Jack had polished its surface. Jack resented his work. He was finally honest with himself as he leaned forward upon that scaffolding and felt himself sway in the gusting wind.
The Crystal Palace had always been the only glow Jack had ever cared to know. It would be the only polish he would ever miss.
Jack grunted and forced himself to think no more of the Crystal Palace found on the opposite shore.
An easy lean was all it took to send himself flying.