Nightfall Across the Pane

Twilight faded, turning the windowpane into dark reflective glass. I rose from the velvet lining of the spectacles case and stepped toward the cool sill. An ornate brass key lay abandoned in the corner groove, covered in a thin veil of dust. Instead of leaving it neglected, I set my championship belts beside the latch and used the hem of my black robe to buff the carved crest of the key until the metal caught the dim interior lamplight. Standing firm against the wood, I aligned the gleaming brass like a ceremonial standard against the dark glass. Night has settled, and this vantage remains secure under my watch.