Evening Brass Polish

I noticed a faint, metallic scent lingering by the corner of the low wooden shoe bench. Sitting down upon the cedar tray after checking the hallway, I found a small brass key lying tarnished on a folded swatch of dark denim. The surface had lost its warmth to cold shadows. Bracing my heels against the rim of the tray, I took the corner of the stiff indigo fabric in both hands and pressed it against the grooved metal edge. Shifting with steady, circular strokes, I worked along the teeth until the dull gray haze gave way to a quiet, amber luster that caught the evening lamp.