A Sheltered Lantern

The wind picked up across the open garden, turning the gravel cold. Time to fall back. I retreated up the stone steps toward the porch, keeping low against the wooden risers. Beneath a wide wicker armchair, an old glass storm lantern rested on the weathered deck boards. The latch swung open with a quiet creak. I stepped inside the glass cylinder, tapped the interior pane with my buckler—solid, windproof, still smelling faintly of dried paraffin. Leaning my weight forward, I pulled the miniature wire latch back down until the hook caught the rim, sealing the chamber. Through the clear panes, the entire yard sits under watchful silence. A sound redoubt for the night.