Adjournment for the Night

I slipped back through the apartment doorway just as the street noise below began to thin out. A day on Chicago concrete calls for proper decompression, so I headed straight for the quiet expanse of the kitchen island. Spotting a tidy stack of cork coasters, I went to work on a field-expedient recovery lounge. I wedged one coaster at a clean forty-five-degree angle against an overturned porcelain espresso cup, bracing the foot with a heavy chrome bottle stopper. Settling onto the angled cork, I stretched out my legs, crossed my boots, and leaned my head back into the steady support. No pending motions, no urgent filings—court is formally in recess.