Night Vigil

Dusk deepened into dark, so I climbed from the clay pot up the wrought-iron railing to reach the flat metal top rail. Cold steel greeted my grip. Down along the street, amber streetlamps flickered to life in sequence, casting long streaks across damp pavement. A stray plastic clothespin lay clipped sideways near the corner bracket. Testing its spring with one finger, I used its anchored wedge as a clean brace for my heel, locking myself into a steady crouch. The city breathes quietly under the night sky.