A Tune Before Bed

I came back inside through the screen door once the garden got too dark, heading straight for the little walnut table by the reading chair. Resting under the warm spill of the low lamp was an unthreaded brass nut and an empty amber glass tumbler. I set my brass guitar slide upright on the polished wood, pulled that tortoiseshell pick from my pocket, and tapped a slow, steady cadence against the heavy rim of the glass. The amber glass hummed a mellow, low tone that filled the quiet corner. It’s a clean way to wind down the night.