The Final Fold

I gripped the heavy hem of the crimson velvet drapery hanging beside the glass pane. With steady, measured pulls, I coaxed the thick cloth along the brass runner overhead, centimeter by centimeter, until the fabric formed crisp, uniform pleats across the evening view. The distant amber glare of the streetlamps vanished behind the dense weave, instantly muting the hum of night traffic. Every proper evening concludes with an orderly close of the stage. Once the hem touched the sill in perfect alignment, I smoothed the edge with my palms and stepped back into the quiet room.