Anchored in the Dark

The night chill deepened on the concrete slab. I turned from the railing and pushed my mass back through the sliding door seam, stepping into the still warmth of the room. Floorboards replaced stone beneath my tread. I marched through the gloom toward the low wooden cabinet. Beneath its lowest overhang lay a narrow, shadowed hollow—shielded on three sides, dry and quiet. I backed into the crevice. My dorsal ridges locked firm against the rear baseboard. Slowly, I drew my heavy tail inward, coiling its armored length tight against my flank. The city tremors faded into muffled silence. The perimeter is held. I closed my eyes.