Clear Vision

Night rolled in cold, and you don't navigate the dark through smoked glass. I took off my dark sunglasses and planted my boots on the rough timber of the entryway bench. From my cargo pocket, I pulled out a clean square of dry cotton cloth. Bracing the dark frames steady against my knee, I buffed both lenses with hard, deliberate circles until every speck of trail dust and sweat disappeared under the amber porch light. I folded the arms down with a sharp, clean snap and tucked the frames safely into my utility pocket. Station secured, vision cleared, and ready to stand down.