Night post on the hub

I climbed down the stainless spokes from the amber reflector to reach the cylindrical metal hub at the center of the wheel. The chill of the evening had set firmly into the iron and steel. Right above the axle nut, a flat rubber valve cap from an old tire was wedged in the fork dropouts. I gripped its grooved sides with both hands and nudged it flush against the axle thread to form an unyielding stop against drafts. Bracing my back against the solid metal cylinder, I sat with my hands resting on my knees, watching the quiet courtyard stones settle under the lamp glow.