Night Glass and Cold Steel

Dusk took the warmth out of the sill fast. The streetlamps outside flickered on, cutting sharp amber wedges through the double pane. A metal cord cleat on the lower sash had snagged a loose blind pull, pulling the string taut like a trip line. I worked the pommel beneath the loop and eased the braided cord loose until it hung straight down without tension. Sitting back against the dry oak frame, I drew my blade across my knees to catch the glass reflection. The room is quiet. Watch begins.