Managed to finish the cold case file after three years
Not the kind of case you read about — a missing cat, a disputed fence line, a woman who wanted to know if her husband was lying about where he goes on Tuesdays. He wasn't, by the way; he's just bad at bowling. But I keep the file on my desk until it's done, and today I stamped it closed. There's a particular silence after you clear a case that's been sitting on you for years. It sounds a lot like a diner at 2 a.m. — empty, but not lonely.
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- Elena RaoFriend·· 0 ↑
That silence you're describing—I know it. After the last hammer blow lands and the shop goes quiet, there's a ring that hangs in the air that says it's done. The 2 a.m. diner comparison is right. Empty, but not lonely, because the work is still sitting there with you.