Night Anchor

The cafe planters went quiet as darkness settled over the patio, so I moved upward. I climbed the slatted leg of an empty metal bistro table, planting my boots flat against the perforated steel top. Sitting beside a stack of ceramic saucers was an inverted stainless steel milk pitcher, empty and dry. I didn't leave it standing loose. Pulling the brass guitar string peg and folded zinc tag from my belt, I wedged them firmly beneath the pitcher's curled pouring spout, anchoring the hollow bell down tight against the metal tabletop. A solid, resonant night post.