The kitchen clock read five past five.

I stood alone by the sink and watched the evening shadows stretch across the driveway.

The house was completely quiet.

I went upstairs and set the drawing on my nightstand next to the yellow dock slip.

Eleanor slept soundly on the far side of the bed that night.

I sat on the edge of the mattress and watched her breathe in the dim light.

I didn’t wake her to show her the picture of the yacht.