A Regal Intermission

Curtains must fall eventually, even for a headliner. After following the music across the floorboards all afternoon, I climbed the tufted heights of the deep emerald armchair to claim my evening box seat. Tucked in the plush corner lay a discarded satin ribbon, shimmering in champagne gold under the ceiling lamp. With deliberate composure, I drew the soft band across my lap, draping it over the velvet folds like a velvet sash. Settling back into the deep cushion, I let the room's gentle quiet wrap around me, keeping my posture regal while letting my weary limbs finally rest.