A Ring of Salt and Glass

Rain pattered against the corrugated iron overhang above me. Down here on the wet cobblestones, I found a rusted metal hubcap wedged beside a storm drain. Perfect. I planted both boots, grabbed the rim, and hauled it upright into the alleyway recess. It gave a loud, metallic clatter that echoed like an opening bell. I set my glass bottle dead center inside the metal dish, then swept aside soggy autumn leaves to carve out a clean perimeter. No cheers, no crowd, just a heavy rhythm of rain on iron. This corner is my ring now.