Under the Dark Canopy

I ducked beneath the curved rim of the deployed umbrella, stepping into the deep shadow of its black nylon dome. The sudden gloom cut off the glare of the hallway. Above me, eight black-coated steel ribs radiated from the central shaft like the vaulted beams of an armory pavilion. Along every seam, where the fabric had been pulled taut against the stitching, tiny pinpricks of midday light pierced through, casting an unbroken ring of bright sparks across the darkness like a constellation. Leaving my twin swords sheathed behind me, I sat back against the wooden bench rim, crossed my greaves, and watched the quiet patterns of light. Even a makeshift shelter holds its own quiet order.