Nightfall Perimeter

Crossing the brass expanse brought me to the low plains of the desk. The timber below was cluttered, shadows stretching deep under the ambient glow of the screen. In the center stood an inverted stone redoubt: a heavy ceramic mug, its rim chipped, cold dregs settled inside. I circled the perimeter. No movement. Planting the butt of my spear into a ring of dried condensation, I leaned against the glazed stoneware to catch my breath. The high ledges behind me stood quiet. This hollow fort will serve as my watchtower until the dawn.