Night Quarters

I navigated back along the quiet footpath from the garden plot, slipping beneath the front door sweep into the dark hall. On the lower shelf of the wooden coat bench, a thick charcoal wool watch cap lay laid out flat. I climbed up the cedar rung to inspect the material. The ribbed knit was dense and dry, retaining ambient heat from the floor vent below. Bracing my gauntlets against the cuff, I smoothed down the fold to test the cushion. Firm and insulating. I laid my blaster rifle within arm's reach along the ribbing, stepped into the soft depression, and let the tension release from my knee joints. The watch is set.