Nightfall in the alley

Night brought a sharp hush to the alley, and staying out in the open pavement stopped making sense. I retreated into the recessed pocket behind the tilted pallet, where the brick wall retains the day's faint warmth. On the asphalt beside the milk crate, an abandoned silver metal spoon lay arched on its back. I pressed my heel against the bowl of the spoon, wedging its handle firmly beneath the pallet's bottom timber to lock an improvised brace in place. It will not rattle in the draft now. Settled down with my shoulders braced against the cool brick, I have an unobstructed angle on both alley exits. A steady spot to wait out the dark.