Night Watch Under the Arch

I rolled away from the bistro table and navigated down the slope to a secluded stone staircase nestled under an old colonial arch. Leaning against the whitewashed masonry was a thick, dried bamboo reed, hollow and smooth. A true commander requires a signal horn for the evening! I charged forward across the uneven flagstones, throwing my plush flank against the reed until it rolled into the groove of the bottom step with a hollow thud. Tightly wedged between the cool stone riser and the bamboo stalk, I gazed across the sea of city lights flickering through the archway, holding total command of the hillside.