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.