Let us go then, you and I
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table.
The soft lull of dusk had wrapped its fingers firmly around his throat, a gentle, suffocating reminder to return to his empty home once more. Perhaps it was a matter of post traumatic stress - the after effect of seeing your wife's bruised corpse bathed in sunset hues, through a broken French window - but Silas could rarely afford to stay at work for long periods of time. An insidious nagging sensation drew teeth along the back of his mind, even though he knew there was nothing left in his house for them to take.
Quiet footsteps rang in a hollow echo along the corridors. He offered a smile to those who bothered with eye contact, but rarely ever lingered.
Instead, Silas found the Judge's chambers.
She was stretched out on the sofa as always, all soft flesh and feminine curves pressed into burgundy cushions. A narrow set of reading glasses were perched on her nose, case reports in hand, but he noticed the counterpoint - glass of wine on the side table, Marc Jacobs tossed onto the carpet.
Silas leaned against the door jamb and raised an eyebrow.
"I heard one of the executioners tried to ask you out today."
TAG OPHELIA AZEVEDO