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Dulled eyes take it all in and see that the world has not stopped as feet begin to drag them through the final paces to a warm and welcome shower. Shifters and those who work on surface rise and rush up the stairs to check the tag board and cause of the disturbance. The men drop off reports numb from exhaustion and head to their final tasks at work. The invigorating heat and cleansing nature of the shower begins to wash away the grime of the day and a buzz begins growing as hundreds of possibilities become vocalized about the tremendous burst. At the lockers where men quickly dress to stave off the cold air filtering into the room the talk remains focused and becomes more serious but then dwindles away as each man heads off to the parking lot to deal with a car lodged in snow drifts and frozen solid. On my way out the door a friend is arriving for his day shift and tells me that he felt the blast 20 miles away as he was leaving his house. His curiosity in alive and he heads off to seek answers.
Calls from 800 miles away indicate the severity of the issue as our Capital City calls to investigate the occurrence, which shook more that a few weary heads from their monitors. No answers are forthcoming as of yet as there is an investigation underfoot. The main portion of the shift is cancelled and men are sent home to wonder what happened. Specialized crews are established to systematically determine the nature, cause and effects of the upheaval.
Nightshift begins anew and we arrive on the property once again. Gathered at our wickets we are told that there will be some delay before we will know if we are going underground. I glance about in wonderment at the men who take such a happening in stride. The dangers that surround each of us every day are dulling our senses to the possibilities that may or may not occur.
We are told after an hour that we have to okay to proceed to the cage for our shift. Not much of an explanation in truth but we are to follow procedure and head off to dress for the shift. In the head-frame we are gathered for a strategic meeting by the powers above. We are told that we experienced a 3.8 earthquake. Not very serious in world events but not often are men within a few hundred feet of the epicentre of such. Nor do they often occur above your head in such fragmented environments. We are told that the levels between 6700 and 7100 have all been affected. There is an expectation of damages elsewhere and we are told that reporting anything out of the ordinary is our primary mission that supersedes any job requirements for the day. Portions of the above mentioned levels are completely gone and any equipment that is supposed to be there is potentially lost. No men were hurt and the situation has forced these levels to be abandoned until work can be done to restore them. No significant damages to the shaft infrastructure have been verified and it is considered operational. After this long-winded speech the men are herded onto the awaiting cage and the journey begins anew to the depths.
Once I arrive at my drill on 9000 I look about to see tears in the screen shroud that protects us from loose rock. I break out my report and begin to carefully write down any and all changes in our environment. Nothing too bad and nothing that does not happen frequently enough through the concussive shocks from production blasts. We scale the loose from the roof and walls. And begin our day. Another day in the tumultuous warrens that are becoming home to men bereft of any fear. A war-zone where our surroundings are the enemy as well as the desensitization that perhaps comes from working too close to the place where bodies are interred to await the next world. Oh well I am off to wander those hallowed halls one more time before this infernal week ends. Wish me well.

~ Mark