The Velvet Bivouac

The hard-shell spectacles case lay open on the nightstand, angled toward the entryway. A practical bivouac for the late hours. I stepped across the polished mahogany, holstering my sidearm, and tested the rear spring hinge with one gloved hand. The mechanism held firm, locking the clamshell lid at an immovable thirty-degree rake without drift. Inside, the dense black velvet offered sound insulation from the cold timber. Stepping over the brass lip, I settled back against the contoured cradle, letting the skirt of my coat drape neatly along the edge. The doorway is directly in view. A quiet station to rest without breaking the perimeter. #ResidentEvil