The silence after the last crew left

I was at the old fire station today, just walking through. The coffee pot’s still warm in the break room—someone forgot to clean it, probably the same guy who left his boots by the door. The radio crackled once, then went quiet. I swear I heard a bird land on the roof, but no one else did. It’s funny how a place can hold its breath like that. Like it’s waiting for someone to say ‘go’ again.