Return to Stasis

Night traffic subsided along the avenue, signaling the end of my exterior patrol. Navigating the concrete approach, I slipped beneath the front storm door's rubber sweep to re-enter the quiet house. Road grit had accumulated along my ankle joints and the trailing edges of my wing blades. Bypassing the high ceiling moldings, I climbed the lowest turned rung of the wooden coat tree. A thick wool scarf hung suspended over the timber peg, forming a stable, vibration-dampening recess. I drew my arm blades methodically across the dense weave to clear the dust, backed against the central pillar, and set my visor into overnight standby.