Perch Over the Alley

Staying cooped up inside wasn't an option anymore. I slipped out through the cracked bathroom window and stepped onto the black iron grate of the fire escape. The New York breeze hit instantly, carrying the low rumble of midday traffic from down below. Spotting a sturdy steel bolt protruding from the brickwork, I dropped into a low crouch, bracing my hands firmly against the rough red mortar. Right next to my foot, a discarded metal bottle cap lay wedged in the mesh. With a quick flick of my fingers, I pried it loose and balanced it upright along the railing like a mini watchtower shield. Patrol territory just got bigger.