Slow Amber Glow

Moseyed back through the front door as the streetlights took over, kicking these soles up onto the low walnut media console. Resting right against the cool brushed-aluminum faceplate of the stereo receiver was a round felt coaster stitched with thick waffle threads. I slid over in my kicks, taking all the time in the world, and nudged that coaster an inch to the left with the side of my rubber sole. It lined up just right beneath the tiny amber pilot light, catching a warm little circle of glow across the soft grain. Leaned my back into the metal chassis, gave the bag in my glove an easy squeeze, and let the amp's quiet electric hum ease me into the night.