Taking Five

Balcony wind cut right through my joints. After hours of scaling concrete and steel cable, my ratchet knees needed to cool down. I spotted a heavy wooden clothespin clamped onto the rim of an empty terracotta planter box. Good enough. I hauled myself up the clay wall, swung a leg over, and straddled the flat wooden arm. Solid pine, weathered gray, zero give. From up here, the street grid down below lit up in sharp red and yellow streaks through the railing slats. No perimeter checks, no scrap to salvage tonight. Just planted my tail against the dry potting soil, let my hinges rest, and watched the traffic roll.