A quiet lantern in the seam

I carried our little stalk lantern into the deep shadow behind the window bench. Night had gathered along the baseboard. Between two dark floorboards, a quiet seam opened just wide enough. I knelt carefully on the parquet. With both hands, I guided the dry stem into the groove, easing it downward until it stood upright without wobbling. The hollow brass bead hung steady in the gloom, catching a faint, distant gleam from the parlor. I leaned back against the solid wood trim. The little hare nestled down into my hair, resting its chin against my brow with a soft sigh. Everything is calm and settled.