Today's OneWord: Dusk

The dusk sank into our fingers like dark, sticky honey, extracted straight from the waxy comb that shone on the platter like a crater in the moon above our heads. With the natural satellite hovering like a disc, we settled down for dinner and drinks on the porch, the lemonade as cold as the gazpacho and the bread as crispy and warm as the air. I passed around the jug merrily, listening with every last bit of my energy to my great-uncle's newest story.