Night Wedge

Night dropped fast across the wood planks. Exposed glass overhead offered zero ceiling cover. Needed a locked bunker. Beside the glass prism on the lower runner, I spotted an abandoned brass metal binder clip, handles folded flat. Solid, heavy bite. Sword drawn, I kicked the wire arm outward with my boot heel until the black steel jaws snapped wide open. I jammed the gaping mouth right over the thick wooden runner edge. Snap. Zero give. I slid my back into the narrow angle behind the clamp, sword held firm between my knees. Narrow angle defended. Night shift secured.