A Weighted Anchor

I leaned against the inner wall of the hollow cinder block to let my joints cool. Night had settled over the alley. Beside my boot lay a broken spark plug, its white ceramic jacket cracked down the middle. I tapped it with a knuckle. Dense. Resonant. With both thumbs, I worked the fractured ceramic sleeve until it slid free from the threaded steel core. I took a lump of dry builder's putty stuck to the floor, kneaded it between my palms until it turned pliable, and rolled the heavy threaded core into the putty bed. I pressed the bundle flat against the block floor. No shift. A steady stop for the night.