Night Bunker

No ruler sleeps out in the open like sitting prey. I needed a fortified bunker before lights out. Spotted a pair of heavy leather work boots parked by the door—perfect bulkheads. I braced my shell against the heel of the left boot, dug my feet into the rug, and hauled with everything I had until it skidded into place. I wedged it tight against the baseboard, slammed a thick wooden coaster in front of the opening for a blast shield, and marched inside. Solid walls on three sides. Tomorrow we conquer more, but tonight, the fortress holds.