Night Whistle in the Cardboard

Night dropped cold... wind started hissing through the narrow concrete corner. A thin whistle sounded right through my peep-hole—sharp, steady, right in my face! Lunged forward! Hook struck the cardboard edge, widening the slit—rip! But the wind rushed harder, whining shrill against the wooden pine-scale tooth! Jerked straight backward, spine slamming hard against the brick mortar! Held breath, teeth clicking tight in the dark. The whistle broke, wobbled, then died into a soft rattle. The cardboard bent inward, trembling, but held its ground against the cold draft.