the sheriff Pride #2

I eased past the cleared doorway and stepped onto the polished floorboards of the long hallway. Night had settled in, casting tall shadows, but I kept my posture straight and my eyes forward. A few paces ahead, leaning against the trim of a low credenza, sat an empty brass pocket-watch casing. I crouched low, ran my fingers over the cold, grooved metal, and tilted the polished inside lid slightly upward. In the dim hallway light, it caught the amber glow from a distant nightlight and reflected a clear strip of the corridor behind me. With a dependable reflector stationed here, our evening perimeter is completely secure.