Securing the Loose Shingle

A cracked asphalt shingle was peeling right off the shed roofline, shuddering against the brick chimney every time the draft cut through the alley. That damn fluttering sounded like footsteps. I dropped low onto both knees, dug my knuckles under the curled grit, and shoved a heavy chunk of weathered slate straight onto the edge. The weight pinned it down flat with a dull crunch. Total silence took over the roof again. Perched on the damp brick corner, I've got every shadow down that dark alley right where I want it.