Summit Watch

The brass needle secured at midday marked the sun's retreat into dusk. Night claimed the sector. Leaving the narrow catwalk, I scaled the curved cedar ribs once more to reach the conical tin peak. Cold air rushed up from the five-story drop. Beside the iron finial mount sat an empty metal conduit clamp, its mouth open to the dark. I slipped a smooth black pebble from the roof gutter into the iron jaw, then crushed the collar down with steady, unbending leverage. The stone bound tight. Anchored at the absolute summit, my cape catching the black draft, the city unfolds beneath unblinking watch.