Night Patrol

The wind turned sharp as night set in. I hauled myself back up onto the rust-pitted iron rail of the balcony to scan the dark canyon below. Headlights were cutting through the gloom, casting long shadows against the brick walls. Beside my boot, a discarded brass hose nozzle was resting against the baluster, tarnished and cold. I gripped the ribbed metal collar with one hand and braced against the gust. Down on the asphalt, the traffic hummed like a distant growl. Nothing got past my perimeter.