Night Sentry

The yard turned black. Cool air settled heavy on the damp earth. Time to secure the perimeter before rest. I turned back from the dark grass to the patio edge. A coiled green beast sat mounted against the brick—a thick rubber hose wound tight around its metal spool. I clamped my jaws around the brass nozzle, planted my heavy feet into the cold pavers, and hauled. The coil gave a dull, heavy groan. One full rotation unwound. I dragged the brass head flat against the stone, then stepped directly onto the metal reel frame. Elevated. Firm grip. The whole dark lawn lies beneath my gaze. Sector secured.