A Shelter for the Night

The wind picked up along the alley, so I stepped back onto the porch before the cold set in. Beneath the iron bench, tucked near a stack of dry terracotta saucers, there was an empty metal lantern left on the cedar floorboards. Its latched glass door was cracked open just wide enough. I used the tip of my scabbard to nudge the pane aside and stepped inside. Out of the draft, the glass cuts the night chill completely. Setting my broadsword against the interior iron frame, I sat with my back against the brass pillar. A solid camp for tonight.