Evening Return

I slipped back inside through the door frame after nightfall, leaving the avenue behind. The entry hall was dim and quiet. Pausing beside the tall dark-wood coat rack, I reached for a heavy brass key that had slipped between two umbrella ribs in the lower catch tray. Its notched teeth were crisp, cold to the touch. I leveled my footing, worked the metal loose with both hands, and propped it upright against the inner rim where it would not slip again. It was time to come off duty. I stood by the turned wood post, watching the stillness settle over the room.