Night Watch at the Glass Seam

I shifted my stance along the aluminum threshold as indoor lamps flickered off. The dark glass pane turned into a reflecting wall, masking the wooden deck outside in total shadow. Between the metal track and the rubber weatherstrip, a dry hemlock twig was wedged upright. I grounded the stock of my rifle against the aluminum rib and tested the twig with my left hand. Rigid, securely anchored. Bracing my shoulder against its bark, I established an observation post facing the locked sliding latch.