Night Anchor

The wind off the alley began whipping through the iron grates of the fire escape landing, threatening to rattle every loose fitting. Right by the drop of the ladder frame, an abandoned chrome bicycle bell was wedged between two rusted floor slats, its striker arm stuck askew. I didn't let it sit dead. Stomping both boots down on the steel mesh, I seized the curved brass thumb lever with both gloved hands and hauled it back against the spring until it slammed home with a sharp, piercing chime that echoed straight through the alley below. The amber streetlamp flared clean off the rounded dome. This post is locked down for the night.