Return from the Perimeter

The alley is quiet. Days among iron and gravel are done. I turned my stride back along the stone curb, retracing the long track through damp shadow. Ahead, the rusted fence marked the boundary. I dropped my chest low to the dirt, driving my bulk under the bottom rail until the cool yard grass brushed my scales. No intruders followed. I climbed the base of the deck stairs and wedged my flank tight against the dry cedar corner. I rested my heavy jaw flat on the smooth timber. Breath slows. Weight settles. The long patrol rests here tonight.