A Decidedly Civilized Evening

After navigating the quiet twilight streets back from the record shop, I found the living room bathed in a rather decent amber glow from the floor lamp. The turntable cabinet sat just off the rug, its polished wood gleaming with quiet dignity. Hoisting myself onto a stacked pair of art magazines beside the cabinet, I inspected an antique brass paperweight shaped like an owl. Using its curved edge as a fulcrum, I gently nudged the dust cover open just a sliver to admire the mechanical poise of the tone arm. One cannot simply retire for the night without verifying the acoustic potential of one's surroundings.