I went up to the thirtieth floor
To investigate that one light on
No matter what time of night or early morning
No matter what building you pick out from a skyline
There's always at least one light on
In an otherwise dark building
It's always nagged at me
That one light
The way a picture hangs
Slightly crooked
On an otherwise perfect wall
I found the building I was looking for
On a cool October night
And walked right into the lobby
Where a security guard
Was waiting for me
With his arms folded
'If you're here about the light,' he says
'It's on the thirtieth floor'
Clearly, he'd been waiting for someone like me
For a very long time
I took the elevator up to the thirtieth floor
Expecting to find an exhausted man
In a white button-down shirt
And a pale red tie
Hanging loosely from around his neck
Hunched over a desk, working diligently on the Ponski account
Instead, the doors opened on a mostly bare room
With a deep red carpet
And two armchairs
In one armchair sat a man in a robe
That matched the carpet
Holding a snifter of something
And motioning for me to come forward
And sit with him in the other armchair
When I did
He explained to me
That it was his job
To watch over the city
From high atop this otherwise unremarkable office building
And what do you do if nothing happens, I ask?
--Something always happens
And what do you do when something happens, I ask?
Nothing, he says, it's not my job to do anything
It's just my job to watch
'A building with a light on signifies hope
It says that no matter what time is it or what day
There's always somebody up, awake, alive
Figuring out the problems of the world'
I shook hands with the man
And made my way back down the elevator
Past the security guard
And out into the city
When I got home
I made myself dinner
Even though it was nearly 3am
And I found that even though I had laughed to myself
When the man in the armchair
Talked about a light in an office building
Symbolizing that tired old idea of hope
I did sleep soundly that night
Moreso than I had in quite some time
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