The soft light, diffused under a manila shade, glowed warmly in the corner, an unobtrusive lamp illuminating the final few pages of a mystery. He, the detective within the book, summed up the whole affair, masterfully unraveling all the lies and misunderstandings of the last two hundred pages. She read her book, enraptured, the din of violent shouts threatening to break through her walls, her neighbors’ nightly argument storming the battlements of her quiet home, but she turned off all the lights, all light but this one. Snuggled on her couch, in darkened shadows, she read all through the night.


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