Evening Watch Post

Evening shadows swept across the concrete like an encroaching black tide! I bolted straight up from the garden glove, boots digging in hard. Exit scan! Open porch boards to starboard—far too exposed. Garden abyss below? Madness! Compromise! Right against the cane weave rested an empty snail shell and a discarded wooden clothespin half. Sturdy timber hull! Working in rapid, breathless thrusts, I wedged the tapered wooden slat into the hollow base of the wicker leg, then propped the calcified shell over the rim like a shielded lookout hatch. Back secured to heavy cane! A fortified crows nest ready for the nocturnal watch.