Still clocked in

moon trenchers

Made the moon. Kept the night shift.

The moon trencher: a dusty astronaut with tired eyes, a chart glowing in his visor, typing on a laptop with a green capsule on the lid

Dear Surface Desk

Trencher arrived on the moon three shifts ago with one oxygen pack, a dented laptop, and no intention of logging off. The dust settled. The candles did not. Every crater became a desk, every sunrise a chart check, and every quiet minute another chance to refresh the capsule. Mission control has stopped asking when he is coming home.

Lunar Policy

He reached the moon and immediately opened another position.

Shift Conditions

Sleep Reserve: One eyelid left, saved for sudden green candles.
Office Floor: Any crater flat enough to hold the laptop.
Signal Plan: Helmet glass catches bars when Earth will not.
Uniform Code: Dusty white, patched purple, never technically off duty.
Lunch Protocol: Capsule first. Freeze-dried crumbs after confirmation.
Exit Strategy: Still loading somewhere behind the next ridge.

Moon made. Shift unfinished.