Night Perch

I slipped back inside through the balcony partition before the house went dark. Climbing the slatted coat stand, I reached the summit of the wardrobe. A folded wool scarf rested inside an open wicker basket against the wall. I stepped into the weave, testing its density. The fabric yielded slightly underfoot before locking into a stable, firm cushion. With my back braced against the wall junction, the entire floor and doorway remain within my direct sightline. The ambient hum of the street has faded. This post will serve as my resting station until dawn.