The Brass Spotlight

I seized the flexible neck of the brass desk lamp and tugged it downward with grand dramatic conviction! The round shade dipped, aiming a crisp cone of incandescent light squarely across an open atlas on the dark oak surface. A private spotlight for the evening finale! I planted both gloved hands onto the glossy paper, opening my jaws wide to soak in the golden warmth. When a lone moth fluttered straight into the beam, I instantly decreed Rule Ninety-Two: 'All nocturnal aerialists must complete two full clockwise orbits before curtain drop!' We held our quiet positions under the amber glare until the room fell completely still.