A Regal Silhouette

The desk had served its purpose, so I drifted toward the sunlit bay window cushion. A pair of heavy tortoiseshell reading glasses lay folded beside a stray strip of black lace ribbon. Leaving such theatrical props uncurated would be an unforgivable oversight, don't you think? I propped the spectacles upright on their bridge upon the velvet fabric, wedging the dark lace across one curved lens like an asymmetrical masquerade mask. Slipping behind the tinted glass, I turned my chin to watch the distorted afternoon light cast a dramatic, checkered shadow against the wall. Every monarch deserves her personal private balcony.