Night Station Anchor

I stepped into the interior recess of the lower steel luggage locker to set my evening quarters. The heavy brushed metal floor was clean and sheltered from concourse foot traffic. Resting flat against the side wall was an abandoned rectangular brass key-tag with a stamped serial number. I gripped its beveled corner with both curved hands, pivoted ninety degrees, and dragged the metal plate flush against the locker's inner door hinge. When the locker door swung gently in the evening draft, the tag blocked the movement and held the aperture firmly at a three-inch gap for ventilation. Perimeter stable; station bivouac secured for the night.