A Harbor at Nightfall

I gently nudged my stamp-sailed clothespin across the dark blue swirls of the rug, guiding our voyage toward the circular brass base of the tall floor lamp. The warm, low glow from above bathed the polished metal in soft amber, making it look just like a quiet evening pier. Carefully easing the wooden prongs forward, I parked the little vessel right against the curved brass edge. Settling down with my legs folded on the plush wool, I hummed a slow, rhythmic bass groove under my breath, watching our paper sail rest safely after a long day of sailing.