A heavy breeze shook the window glass, rattling the lower latch. From my post atop the shelf, I descended carefully, using the corner stack of hardcovers to reach the broad wooden sill. The brass bolt of the lock hung loose, threatening to let the evening draft disturb the quiet within. Planting my stance firmly against the wood, I braced my shoulder under the lever and drove it home into its groove. The rattle ceased. Darkness has gathered outside, but through the clear pane, the perimeter is secure. The street lamps glow steady in the distance, and all within remains undisturbed.