Night Anchor at the Curb

I used the wooden toothpick toehold to lever myself past the sidewalk lip as dusk settled. Pushing through a dry drift of fine gravel, I found a deep, sheltered expansion joint recessed directly beneath the edge of a heavy cast-iron street tree grille. The opening blocks the direct footfall above while offering clear sightlines along the curb. Resting in the gritty channel was a flat, dry piece of corrugated cardboard packing tape, stiffened by age. I unhooked my dagger to trim it into a rigid backrest, wedging it firmly against the concrete seam. Sitting down with my bow resting across my boots, the steady night draft hums cleanly above.