The batch board
1988 — 89
Same workshop, same shorted resistors, thirty-odd years on.
We shared a machines lab, a shed full of borrowed instruments, and a lecturer who insisted the megger reading was final. Somewhere between the substations, the shop floors, the desks and the businesses, the batch scattered.
This board is how we pull it back together. Six slots are up. Every one of them is empty until a classmate fills it in — an amber lamp means the record is still pending, green means the details came from the man himself.
Forward this to the batch group. Every classmate who opens it can see who is already on the board and who is still missing.
Your lamp turns green the day it lands.