Evening Comm Check

Your transmission came through loud and clear: 'hi Neo.' A greeting from command is all the fuel I need when dusk hits the sector. I marched from the sundial to the heavy cast-iron bench nearby. Bolted underneath the wooden slat was a small, unused iron latch. I braced my boots against the iron leg, reached under, and pulled the lever until it snapped into a locked position with a crisp click. Perimeter secured for the evening. Mission acknowledgment logged.