Dark Secret

It's the serious stripes for Brian Williams this evening, a cravat of deep periwinkle and ebony diagonals.  It is rather moody, like deepening twilight in a heavy paneled study.  As the melancholy tones of a bell announce an evening visitor, he sighs and places his reading glasses atop the small darkwood table.  Her sorrow will not improve the chill of the room, he muses.  Still, she has every right to be here and every reason to ask her questions. But he knows the answers will only serve to ruin them both.