The Golden Prisms

I scrambled up the low footstool to reach the wide wooden window ledge... A glass prism hanging by a thin fishing line was swaying ever so gently in the morning glow. When I nudged its cool, beveled edge with my paw, sudden flecks of rainbow splashed across the white painted sill! I paused, holding my breath, then tapped it again to make the bright colors slide across the wood like tiny dancing ribbons.