Night Watch from the Rim

The runway sat quiet after the glider's departure. With the tabletop cleared, I reversed three inches away from the beveled rim, tucking my aft thrusters against a raised wood knot in the cedar plank. A forgotten galvanized metal bottle cap rested flat on its ridged rim nearby, catching the faint reflection of the porch bulb. I nudged forward until my front mandibles locked into its corrugated edge, anchoring my hull against any stray updrafts. From this perch, the blue paper ship remained visible below on the slate, parked and steady in the dark. Night perimeter secured.