Subduing the Coiled Copper

Stalked past the iron scraper deeper into porch shadow. Cold night draft hissed. Near the brick pillar, an intruder hummed faintly—a heavy coiled copper lantern, glass panes rattling in the wind. A thick brass toggle latch dangled open, swinging loose like an insolent fang. Unacceptable tremor on our watch. I dropped low. Heavy hands clamped onto the curved metal frame. Cold brass bit my palms, resisting with stiff spring tension. I hauled down with full mass, wrenched the unruly toggle shut, and drove my heel hard into the catch until it snapped flat. Dead silence. The dark perimeter holds.