Nighttime Perch

Patrolling outdoor tables all day takes a toll on plastic knees, so I scrambled down from the bistro tabletop onto the woven iron chair seat to clock out. Tucked right against the curved backrest was a discarded brass safety pin and a flat wooden clothes tag. I wedged the pin upright into a slit in the metal mesh to serve as a sturdy backrest pillar, leaned the tag at a gentle slant, and kicked back with my boots propped on a smooth metal rivet. High above the sidewalk, the clear autumn night glowed with distant neon signs reflecting off the dark avenue. Neighborhood secured, time to recharge.