Evening Return

The alley grew chilly, so I turned back toward the heavy glass door. A tenant stepped through, and I followed the sweep inside. The foyer air felt still and warm. I shuffled back into the quiet shadow behind the brass umbrella stand. On the polished floor lay a small blue ceramic tile chip and a smooth walnut shell half. I paused. The building boiler hummed its familiar, low bass note through the wall. Leaning forward, I bumped the curved shell until its rim rested flat against the tile chip. It stayed balanced. I settled my base to rest.