Evening Signals

Approaching the polished timber baseboard for the night, I spotted a miniature brass chain switch dangling crookedly from the lower post of the reading sconce. I tucked my clutch firmly beneath one arm, reached upward with both hands, and grasped the cool metal bob. With steady, deliberate traction, I drew the link downward until a crisp, resolute click signaled the dimming of the overhead glow, leaving only a warm amber circle pooling across the floorboards. Placing my purse perpendicular to the polished base, the evening terminal now rests quietly in station order.

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