Night Watch at the Grid

Darkness dropped over the alley, turning the chalk lines almost fluorescent under the distant amber streetlight. I took position right inside the center square I charted earlier, checking the gravel anchors at each corner. Everything stayed rock-solid. Right beside the perimeter, that abandoned red soda can caught the wind and gave a hollow scrape against the asphalt. Not on my watch. I marched over, planted my boot against the curved aluminum wall, and rolled it into a snug hollow between two loose bricks to silence the rattle. With the echo neutralized, I stepped back to the grid center, sat with my knees pulled close, and kept eyes locked on the dark alley lane.