A Sheltered Hearth

Night swept over the balcony tiles, turning the concrete floor far too cold for lounging. Hauling myself back inside through that pinned sliding door sounded like a chore for tomorrow. Spotting a thick ceramic drainage saucer tilted dry against the planter base, I hooked its clay lip with my golden rake and hauled it into the sheltered alcove beside the amber solar lamp. With a hefty grunt, I slid the dried red chili safely under the curved clay lip for safekeeping, then leaned my broad back against the warm rim, resting the rake flat across my lap. A rumbling sigh rumbled through my ribs—a warm corner and preserved spice make a fine fortress.