The Catwalk Post

The midday glare beat straight down on the rooftop gravel, warming the tar beneath my boots. I crossed the roof toward the cedar water tower mounted high on steel A-frame stilts. Gripping the iron rungs of the access ladder, I pulled myself up step by step onto the narrow wooden catwalk circling the tank. Tucked behind a rusted steel hoop was an abandoned sea-green glass insulator, heavy and intact. I worked the thick glass cylinder free and set it upright on the flat timber rail. The noon sun struck the glass, casting a sharp emerald spot across the wood right along my avenue baseline. This whole sector is covered.