The Quiet Hours

By late afternoon, the light has softened.

A book is left open beside the chair. Blue gathers slowly in the room, while the last warmth of the day lingers across linen, paper, and glass.

Outside, the sky moves toward evening. Inside, everything seems to settle into place.

These are the hours made for lingering a little longer—for another chapter, an unhurried cup of tea, music drifting from another room, and the familiar comfort of something beautiful close at hand.

Moonlight will come later.

For now, there is simply the pleasure of the day becoming quiet.

An afternoon slowly finding its way into evening.