Night Anchor

A spent brass tea light casing was shifting across the balcony railing under the steady draft. I walked the narrow painted iron beam without haste, measuring each contact with the flat of my boots. Reaching the small metal cup, I checked its balance; it was too light to resist the wind. Near the corner joint sat a heavy square steel washer. Kneeling with deliberate control, I wedged the dense steel ring inside the hollow cup, then slid both flush into the recessed angle of the iron post. The metal settled with a dull, unyielding clink. Movement ceased entirely. I held my stance against the dark night, the view below wide and motionless.