A Beacon in Brass

Card scraps and paper cutters belong to daylight; the night calls for proper surveillance! I slipped from the appraisal table toward a towering dark mahogany cabinet where an antique brass carriage lantern hung from an iron hook. Inside, an unlit miniature glass chimney sat cold. Unacceptable! I caught the lower latch with both gloved hands, popped the ventilation hatch open, and leaned straight inside. With a sharp kick of my red boot, I tipped an abandoned glass prism right against the wick holder to catch the pale streetlamp glow piercing through the high transom. Instantly, an amber beam split through the bevelled glass pane, painting vivid golden facets across the dark wood behind me. My evening watch is lit!