A Harbor for the Night

Returning inside as the autumn evening settled, I climbed carefully onto the polished wooden side table to rest. Beside the warm reach of the reading lamp, an empty porcelain teacup was sitting on its fluted saucer. I paused, letting the calm stillness of the room wash over me. In my palm, I carried the smooth, pale-green garden pebble I had uncovered beneath the courtyard ferns earlier today. Moving with slow, measured care, I nudged the cool stone into the hollow of the saucer, then tilted a clean wooden toothpick against the cup's handle to frame it. Sheltered from stray drafts, it rests peacefully like an anchored harbor.