Postman
Anssi Lahti was told by Petteri it was the worst time of year to start his training as a Helsinki postman.
   It was something about the dark.
   Anssi wasn't listening. The nights could draw out all they liked, he was young. Petteri was an old man and the old grew tired. Anssi was simply proud to have such a responsible job. Happy to be working.

For the first few weeks, after he'd completed his route, he would go to his favourite café and drink espresso until the sun rose. The darkness of the work felt arcane and occult; magical and dark. The experience of watching the sun rise would cleanse him. This coffee ritual at end of each shift would mark the start of his real day.
   Happily he would crunch his way home, through the snow, back to the rich warmth of his girl asleep in their bed.

As weeks rolled by, and the darkness sliced further into the day, Anssi resented waiting for dawn. This incision turned the morning into a wound.
   His girl became despondent with Anssi's moods, so on his return, would make sure that he went straight to sleep and she would awake him just before sunrise.

Six weeks after his original start date, Anssi awoke to see the rays of sunlight coming through the curtains.
   His girl came through the door a few minutes later, a bag of shopping under each arm.
   “Why didn't you wake me up you silly bitch?”
   She had tried to be patient with him.
   “Get a normal job then Lahti! I can stand this no further. You don't even spend time with me anymore. Stupid time!”

Without his girl to wake him Anssi saw little point in the timing of the dawn or day.
   In the first few weeks he hardly even noticed the time, only the work.
   After the pain eased freedom arrived. Freedom from the concept of light and dark. He found his own rhythm.
   By sleeping in two four-hour shifts everyday he was able to come home from work and do all the domestic tasks, then sleep, wake up go out drinking with friends and then sleep again before his shift.

One 4am-start Anssi was stacking mail with Petteri.
   “You look bad. She has left you, yes?”
   “Yes you were right. Hard, very hard.”
   “It's not my fault Anssi. Don’t be angry with me. But do not worry. It is the seasons. Cycles. Sometimes the hardest way is best way to start. Sometimes it is not. Just be proud you have a good job. Yes?”
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