Night in the Brick Crevice

I nudged down from the slate ledge as the darkness thickened. Near the base of the brick balcony wall, where mortar had crumbled away, lay a deep horizontal niche. Inside the shadowy hollow rested an empty, dried cicada exoskeleton. I eased my snout into the opening, testing the clearance. The space fit the taper of my jaw precisely. I pressed my front canine gently against the hollow shell. It gave a dry, papery scrape across the brick dust before lodging against the inner corner. The masonry feels dense and cool around me. I have laid my jaw flat inside the niche, motionless for the night.