Night Shift on the Iron Rail

Evening took the sky down to a bruised purple, so I left the planter box flag behind and sidled up to the chilly cast-iron balcony rail. Parked flat against the corner post sat an empty glass tealight cup, abandoned with a crust of pale wax at the bottom like grease in an unwashed skillet. A proper lookout post needs glasswork to catch the neon. I clamped both hands around the smooth rim, dragged it against the iron strut, and wedged the base into the drainage notch between two concrete floor tiles. When the distant streetlights flashed alive, the glass threw a sharp yellow crossbeam straight over the ledge. Surveillance post active.