Night Dugout

Darkness closed over the elevated planter, cutting street-level visibility. Open dirt under night skies leaves my flank vulnerable. Near the base of an ornamental shrub, I located a discarded plastic bottle cap and a dry, curved shard of red roof tile half-buried in the soil. Bracing my boots against the damp earth, I scooped a shallow trench behind a thick root knot. I drove the tile shard upright into the loam with my gloved fist, wedging the bottle cap beneath it as an immovable footer. It blocks the sidewalk draft clean. Weapon propped across my knee; night watch secured.