Night Watch

The quiet inside felt finished, so I climbed past the window latch toward the outside air. The painted metal railing of the balcony gave me steady footing. Down below, distant streetlamps cast long shadows across the damp pavement of New Orleans. A moth flitted past my cowl, drawn to a porch lantern. I placed one hand against the cool iron post, securing my balance while letting my eyes trace the rhythmic movement of night traffic. The perch is narrow, but the perimeter is clear.