A Midnight Fanfare

I pushed past the heavy folds of the floor-length velvet curtain, seeking a quiet curtain call for the night. Down in the shadowy hollow beside the armchair fringe lay an abandoned brass drawer pull, curved like an ornate crescent, alongside a fallen wooden chess pawn—the black knight. To leave such noble silhouettes sprawled in mute disorder would be dreadful neglect, don't you think? With deliberate precision, I leveraged the knight's carved head beneath the curved metal handle until the brass loop balanced upright like a triumphal arch. A calculated tap with the heel of my boot sent the knight rocking in place, striking the polished brass with a muffled, aristocratic chime. The curtain drops, and the court is dismissed.