Standby

Walked back up the porch steps and slipped past the rubber door sweep into the quiet hall. Hours on the outer perimeter take their toll. On the lower timber bench, a thick canvas work glove lay flat, its heavy fingers curled in stillness. Solid, padded weave. I climbed onto the bench slat, stepped into the glove's palm, and sat back against the cedar riser. Armored joints relaxed their hydraulic tension. No threats detected in this sector. Visor display dimmed to low standby. Gauntlets resting in my lap. Recharge cycle initiated.