A Watch in Terracotta

Night has sealed off the cobbles outside. Within this inverted terracotta saucer, the cool air remains still, sheltered from drafts along the stone wall. I rested the butt of my long rifle firmly against the dry dirt, letting both palms settle quietly across the upright muzzle. Across the narrow rim gap, the faint glow of distant streetlights cuts a single pale line over the gravel. I loosened my pack strap and eased the rolled birch chart against the curved clay wall beside my knee. The thimble and gear are secure. Here, in the quiet hollow, the night watch begins.