Starlight Sentinel

My joints were coated in chain grease and shivering from the October night air, so I retreated from the bike racks toward the pavilion's rear perimeter. Right against the concrete foot of the floodlight post, I spotted an empty, upturned cardboard fry box and an intact, clean white plastic bottle cap. Perfect shelter for an overnight vigil! I planted my boots in the gravel, gripped the grease-stained carton with both arms, and tilted it over the concrete footing like an angular bastion. Sliding the plastic cap underneath, I turned it upside down to serve as a sturdy, water-tight stool, plopping myself down with a tired gasp. The cold breeze rushed past, but my reinforced bunker held solid against the dark.