Night Watch by the Brass Lamp

Night took the curb, so I made my way up the concrete front steps toward the porch. Beside the exterior door, an old heavy brass carriage lantern cast a deep, warm amber circle across the dark timber floorboards. A dried moth wing and a curled brown birch pod were wedged beneath the lantern's flanged base, tilting the heavy housing off plumb. I planted my boots firm against the wood grain, drew my blade, and used the squared corner of the crossguard to sweep the debris clear. With a measured push against the glass frame, the lantern settled flush with a solid clink. Propping my sword point-down beside my boot, I sat back against the cool cedar post within the light. The street outside is quiet.