The warehouse is quiet except for the hum of metal. Dust hangs in lazy clouds, slicing through headlights like cigarette smoke. The forklift prowls between stacks of pallets, forks raised, shadows long and hungry. You move too close, too curious, and suddenly you’re part of the scenery — a mistake measured in inches and pounds.

Someone will tell the story. They’ll make it a cautionary tale, a joke whispered in the break room, a headline in the internal memo. This poster hangs there to remind you: nothing in this place stops for you. Not the machine. Not gravity. Not luck. Pay attention.