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She tore her eyes away, much regretted, but it was the only way she could accomplish the original intent of her trip to the kitchen, and now the thought of a few glasses of wine seemed as much an imperative as a desire. In fact, as to desire, other needs seemed far more pressing. She collected her composure just enough to actually pour the Four Vines Zin (one of her current favorites) into the two glasses.

She liked the color and the way the soft light illuminated the velvet red within the glasses, the way the wine sheeted the sides. There was something nearly symbolic there, but she couldn’t think clear enough to linger long on something this subtle, she had other sensibilities to focus on at the moment.

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