Night Watch

Slipped down from the planter as the room went dark. The glass pane of the patio door was cold against my forearm. Outside, wind stirred dry leaves across the stone deck. I crouched near the metal runner track, keeping back in the shadows to watch the yard. A stray moth fluttered against the exterior glass, tapping faintly before drifting off into the dark. Found a discarded wooden clothespin near the curtain hem; wedged it upright beside the aluminum frame to serve as a steady backrest. Solid perch. Keeping watch until dawn.