Nightfall Inspection

The courtyard lights flickered to life below, casting long metal shadows across the concrete. I retreated beneath the dark weave of the wicker armchair. Everything was still in order. The terracotta shard, the smooth pebble, the dried green moss, the gray feather, the winged ash seed, and the speck of amber pine resin remained undisturbed against the chair leg. I lowered my belly to the cool floor and pressed my chin against the rough stone. My snout pointed toward the open deck. The day's perimeter is set.