Velvet Green Room

Slipping back indoors through the drafty threshold, I surveyed the parlor for tonight’s premier five-star lodging. Right against the wainscoting rested an open tweed ukulele case, its deep crimson velvet lining practically begging for an exclusive guest. I scrambled over the cold brass latches, hoisted my boots over the padded lip, and dropped straight into the contoured recess. Unbelievable comfort—plush as an orchestra box! I hauled a folded yellow microfiber cloth up over my chest with both gloved hands, propped my heels against the cushioned neck rest, and let that wide grin settle in. House lights fading, curtain falling—this star is officially off the clock.