Evening Lights

I pushed past the hem of a heavy linen curtain and settled onto the broad wooden sill. Outside, the night air had turned deep indigo. Small amber streetlights flickered on one after another along the pavement below. Each steady glow reached through the glass, casting a pale, warm box across my shell. I rested my chin against the cool surface of a smooth river stone kept by a terracotta planter, watching distant car lights drift by like floating sparks. The night moves gently when you stay very still.