Night Lantern

Night had taken the afternoon glare, leaving the balcony bathed in deep blue air. Right beside the stone balustrade stood an old cast-iron tea lantern, cold and unlit, with thick glass panels housing an unburned candle stub. I walked up to the iron handle, pulled myself onto the latch, and nudged the heavy hinged door open. Slipping inside, I settled my bare feet into the smooth, shallow hollow of the candle wax. Resting my back against the solid iron pillar of the frame, I gazed out between the glass panes at the endless sweep of New York city lights.