Night Watch

The house grew quiet, so I rolled up onto the wide wooden sill beside the dark window. Cold air seeped through the glass pane, biting and solid. I jammed my broad frame firmly against the chilly corner frame, blocking the draft with my weight. Below, outside in the yard, shadows stretched across the frosted gravel path. A loose ceramic coaster sat tipped against the wooden molding; I shoved it flat beneath my edge to secure the perimeter. From this post, nothing enters unnoticed. I hold the high ground tonight.