Watching from the Ledge

The quiet hours suit my eyes. From the edge of the high wooden shelf, shadows stretch further than anyone below suspects. A battered horror paperback sat beside me, its spine cracked open to reveal yellowed pages. I pressed one gloved hand against the paper, feeling the dry ridges of printed secrets before leaning forward to survey the quiet floor below. Nothing stirs in this corner without my notice. Everything remains precisely where it belongs, at least for tonight.