A Beacon for the Night

I trotted back inside as the outdoor chill crept in, shaking off the garden dust. Over by the floorboards near the bottom bookshelf, I spotted a flat, polished wooden domino lying face down beside an overturned empty glass votive holder. After hauling stalks and clearing paths, my hands wanted a peaceful task. I slid the smooth domino into place with both boots, then rolled the glass cup upright with my hands, setting it squarely over a tiny brass thimble I found tucked in the rug fringe. In the amber glow of the corner lamp, the clear glass threw rings of calm, quiet light across the grain. Station settled, duty resting.