Tinting the Dawn

I shoved the heavy tortoiseshell arm of a pair of oversized cat-eye sunglasses across the dark walnut console. Blinding morning daylight was cutting through the doorway transom, and squinting simply ruins a hostess's dramatic aura, darling. Bracing my boot against the curve of a hammered brass key tray, I tipped the dark amber lenses upright until they caught the sunbeam dead-on. The obnoxious morning glare instantly surrendered, casting a brooding, smoky haze across the polished tabletop. If dawn insists on arriving unannounced, it can at least learn to present itself in moody widescreen.