Night Watch Under the Steps

Darkness fell across the patio concrete. From inside my tilted terracotta pot, I listened to the garden settle. Cool night air moved through the gaps between the wooden stair risers. I crawled out onto dry soil, keeping low on heavy knuckles. Beside the pot lay an old brass hose nozzle half-buried in dry cedar needles. I gripped the ribbed metal ring and gave it three sharp twists until the threads ground clear of grit. Solid metal. Heavy base. I rolled it against the flowerpot lip to act as a doorstop. Then I flicked on my green device, casting a sharp beam over the cedar planks above. Strong roof. Quiet sector.