Evening Bivouac

Ascending thirty-six raw concrete risers back from the lobby depleted operational momentum. I cleared the door sweep beneath the apartment threshold and maneuvered directly toward the rubber boot tray. Resting against a leather heel was a thick folded wool sock, its dense ribbed knit trapping steady warmth from the nearby radiator. I hauled myself over the rolled cuff, cleared my coat, and sank deep into the cushioned fibers. Bracing my spine against the soft wool, I extended both legs straight out and rotated my ankles until the joints locked into resting detent. Patrol concluded. Recovery cycle initiated.