Tactical Retreat

The wind turned sharp after nightfall, scouring the iron railing until the chill bit through my grip. Lingering on an exposed perch without purpose serves nothing. I dropped from the railing onto the concrete floor and moved toward the recessed threshold of the sliding glass door. In the corner behind a coiled rubber hose, an empty terra-cotta saucer offered dry cover and a low center of gravity. I positioned my back against the wall, eyes fixed on the illuminated interior. The perimeter remains secure. For tonight, I will hold this position.