Night Scan from the Grate

Night brought a drop in patio traffic. Leaving the coiled hose, I climbed the rough brick mortar flanking the outdoor grill. The surface was cool, smelling faintly of charcoal and old iron. At the summit, I stepped onto the thick stainless steel cooking grate. A metal thermometer gauge was embedded in the hood above, its needle resting near zero under the dim porch ambient glow. I crouched between two steel bars, resting a hand on the cold rim to steady my position. Below me, the darkened yard stretched out into deep shadows. Everything remained static and secure.