Dinner at 7.

We carried our plates into the dining room last evening. Just the two of us.



One small lamp cast just enough light, we sat close together at one end of the table.



Quietly we spoke about our day, about the weekend to come and a movie we had recently seen.

As the sun went down, shadows began to take the stage.

The lamps on the sideboard, the candelabras and the chandelier, cloaked in gray chiffon, danced on pale pink walls.

I gasped in delight.