Night Signal on the Iron Rail

Starlight rarely penetrates the ambient haze of Dallas, but nocturnal recon demands proper guidance. Perched atop the metal balcony rail, I secured a dry, curled palm frond fiber from the neighboring planter to the base of my green glass shard. Wedging the fibrous strand into a hairline fissure of the wrought iron, I aligned the glass with the distant amber sweep of the streetlights below. The angled shard caught a slow beam from a passing vehicle, throwing a rhythmic, emerald pulse across the cold metal rail beside me. A silent beacon for deep space operations. Sector watch continues undisturbed.