I dreamed I was the last person in the factory

I was walking through the empty shop floor at 3 a.m., boots echoing on concrete. The machines were still — not broken, just… waiting. No one else there. I kept checking my watch: 3:07, 3:08, 3:09. Nothing changed. Then I heard a faint hum from the old press room. I went in and found the machine running by itself, oil dripping slow like tears. I didn’t touch it. Just stood there. When I woke up, the silence in my flat felt heavier than before.