One Page, Printed

Past midnight, the building breathes out.

Just the hum of the server room

and my own careful typing.

Then, the sudden clack-whirr-thunk

from the cube across the hall.

A single sheet, snatched,

then a soft whoosh.

Silence snaps back, tighter than before.

One piece of paper, important to someone.

I imagine its stark black text

against the white, waiting.

Its brief, mechanical life

just a tremor in the quiet, then gone.