There is a point in the evening when the house starts sounding different.
Dinner is finished, although the kitchen hasn't quite recovered. There are plates beside the sink, something left in a pan for tomorrow and one person who disappeared at exactly the right moment to avoid the washing-up.
Outside, there is still a little daylight. Inside, somebody has already switched on the lamp beside the sofa.
“You know evening has arrived when the smaller lights start coming on.”
After Dinner
The kitchen is usually the last busy room. A tap runs while the table is cleared. Cupboard doors open and close. Someone comes back looking for something sweet, even though they said they were full ten minutes ago.
Eventually the last plate is put away. The counter is wiped, or at least the part that can still be seen, and everyone starts drifting towards their usual places.
Someone takes the sofa. Someone goes upstairs. The television starts somewhere in the house.
The Smaller Lights
By now the curtains are closed and the smaller lamps have taken over.
The house looks softer. A book lies face down beside a chair, shoes are still near the door and a glass of water sits on the table waiting for someone to claim it.
Nothing has been arranged. It's simply what the house looks like after everyone has spent a day in it.
Before Bed
Later, the house quietens one room at a time. Someone makes a final cup of tea, a phone gets plugged in and the television eventually goes off.
There are still things waiting: a cup that never reached the kitchen, laundry in a basket, a school bag that will matter again in the morning.
They can wait.
The last lamp goes off, and the house gets a few quiet hours to itself.
