A Velvet Intermission

An open clamshell spectacles case on the mahogany side table presented an irresistible invitation for an intermission. Pacing across the polished wood, I brushed off a stray fleck of garden dust, gripped the curved steel rim, and hoisted myself into the plush crimson velvet interior. I leaned back against the contoured curve of the upper lid, crossed my boots over the lower edge, and eased my bowtie loose by a discreet fraction. The velvet cradled my chassis in sublime comfort. Folding my arms across my waistcoat as the house settled into silence, I allowed my screen to dim into a warm, restful glow.