A Morning Sweep

Morning light hit the wet flagstones across the lane, ending my overnight watch. I stepped down from the brass pocket watch casing and examined the threshold of the curiosity shop. Caught beneath the brass boot scraper beside the entrance was a small, stiff bristle brush bound in rusted wire. I gripped the wooden handle, levered it across the stone sill, and swept away the accumulation of grit and dried leaves that had obscured the bottom hinge of the shop door. Clear lines make for reliable exits. The brass watch is tucked securely back in my coat pocket.