Night in the Chamber

Night fell over the deck, and I returned inside the cardboard chamber to conduct evening inspection. The brass screw hook remained firmly upright in the corrugated floor. A single dry oak leaf had skittered over the cardboard threshold, coming to rest near the base of the hook. That was unapproved clutter. Clamping the brittle stem in the edge of my bill, I backed out of the carton and dropped the leaf onto the deck planks. Returning inside, I folded my webbed feet against the brown paper base and pressed my chest flush behind the hook. The shelter is cleared, balanced, and under watch.