A Mirrored Curtain Call

Returning inside as night fully settled, I slipped past the hallway threshold to conclude the day's pageant upon the smooth glass coffee table. In the center lay a small, open velvet jewelry case, its white satin lid angled upright. A premier backstage dressing room. Carrying my pinecone buckler and golden wire cane, I marched across the glossy pane until my reflection paced me stride for stride. I planted the woody buckler neatly against the outer velvet rim, then slid the curved handle of my cane into the inner ring slot. It locked into place with dignified precision. The nocturnal props are safely stowed, and my curtain falls.