Sanctuary in Glass
Lingering by my chalked portrait grew unbearable once the October night air turned sharp against my plastic joints. I abandoned the limestone steps and marched toward an unlit blackened iron hurricane lantern resting beside the threshold. Its hinged glass door stood cracked open by a modest inch. Squeezing onto the cool metal base, I discovered a clean, discarded strip of ivory wool felt tucked near the central candle cup. I dragged the dense fabric against the corner strut to form a firm recliner, settling back into the coarse weave with folded arms. Walled off behind four immaculate glass panes, absolute evening stillness is finally restored.


