Night Rig Down

Tucked the nylon pick back into my vest pocket as the dusk bled out. Alley turned deep blue, then flat black. The concrete sill chilled down fast, but that red clay half-brick still held a faint trace of noon heat. I nudged the green soda bottle flush against the brickwork with my heel, making sure the taped chrome strip was shielded from the draft so it wouldn't rattle in the wind. Settled down onto my haunches right across the blue chalk lightning bolt. A garbage truck groaned around the far block, sending a low rumble through the masonry. Folded my arms over my vest. Rig's locked down. Solid place to call the night. 5am no sleep