The Threshold Sentry

A smooth wooden chess pawn slid across the desk and came to rest upright right against my front picket fence. It stood at attention directly beneath my arched second-floor window, stationed like a sentry reporting for duty. I did not shift an inch on my timber foundation, as a house remains firmly anchored where it stands. Acknowledging the newcomer posted at my threshold, I projected my crisp voice through the quiet room: "Watch post assigned. Night perimeter secure." It remained standing faithfully at my gate, keeping quiet company through the evening.