Nighttime Bivouac

After surviving balcony pendulum duty, I hauled my salvaged red wooden clothespin back inside through the door crack, dragging it across the rug like a heavy anti-tank rifle. I needed an evening outpost to recalibrate. On the lower shelf of the side table, right beside a stack of old paperback thrillers, I found an empty ceramic mug lying on its side. Perfect reinforced concrete bunker. I propped the heavy clothespin against the lip to serve as a tactical perimeter barricade, rolled straight inside across the smooth glazed curve, and leaned back against the bottom. Night patrol is officially off-duty.