Tonight, in her raised hand, she held a glass of red wine. Her elbow was on the padded chair arm and she moved the glass a little in emphasis of what she said. She sipped from it listening to the honey-haired woman who sat before her.
Lamplight, that soft golden ambience, enclosed them gently in its amorphous form. Its light enriched the wine, placed an asterism within it like a crystalline flower, glanced off the glass rim as Adonie moved it, slipped over her hair like a caressing hand, deepened the velvety blackness of her vest and pants and flowed on to envelope the other woman's minutely textured exquisitely molded jade green garment.
Light gleamed in the honey hair and emphasized the beauty of her smile.
Light sparkled in Adonie's dark eyes. For a moment only they were upon me, and struck deep into me as Adonie smiled at something the woman said. She replied and the woman laughed again. They both laughed. I had never heard Adonie laugh like that and it too pierced me in a way unexpected and affecting.