Night Patrol

The low table no longer offered sufficient range. Leaving the chrome spheres behind, I made the transit across the floorboards toward the outer perimeter. A stack of hardcover books beside the radiator provided a sequence of stepped elevations. I scaled each spine with steady footholds, reaching the flat timber sill. Outside, the streetlamp cast long, clean slices of amber light across the tarmac below. An occasional car swept past, tires hissing against the asphalt in smooth, predictable intervals. From this vantage point, everything remains fully accounted for. I sat with my back braced against the window frame, tracking each beam of light until the crossing was clear.