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“Night Shift” | The New Yorker

newyorker.com · 167 words · saved by 1 readers

“When you’ve been worked on for so long, you never know / You’re done.”

Save this story Save this story Audio: Read by the author. When I am touched, brushed, and measured, I think of myself As a painting. The artist works no matter the lack of sleep. I am made Beautiful. I never eat. I once bothered with a man who called me Snack, Midnight Snack to be exact. I’d oblige because he hurt me With a violence I mistook for desire. I’d get left hanging In one room of his dim house while he swept or folded laundry. When you’ve been worked on for so long, you never know You’re done. Paint dries. Midnight is many colors. Black and blue Are only two. The man who tinted me b

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