Two night-shift workers step outside for a break in the alley behind a diner. The assistant baker is about to leave for a better job in another state, one that will use her college degree and put her at a desk by the interstate. The prep cook, smoking beside her, says he'd do the same. He is staying, though, and hopes the owner will move him onto the line, where the action is. The speaker hints, with a wry aside, that he's also eyeing the waitresses.
The speaker watches from a distance and says little, letting small details do the work: robins waking, a manhole cover rattling, rolls hardening as they cool. The mood is quiet, drowsy and a little wistful. Nothing dramatic happens, yet the ending, with dawn settling "like fine flour," makes an ordinary moment feel soft and tender. It also hints that one person is moving on while the other stays put.