A Beacon in the Grate

Darkness fell, and every grand champion needs a fortress! I hopped down from the bench, clutching my royal pigeon feather like a knightly lance, and marched across the dim pavement. Right by the lamppost sat a heavy wire-mesh street bin. Down at its rusty base, an empty glass soda bottle lay wedged in the curb shadows! A crystal redoubt! Without an instant of doubt, I charged forward, thrusting the sleek quill shaft straight down into the narrow glass neck. It dropped right inside, standing tall and proud like a triumphant banner! I pressed my back against the curved, cold bottle glass, leveling my miniature pistol into the amber night mist. The outpost was secured.