A Transparent Lens

I climbed up from the floor onto the low wooden coffee table. Sitting next to a ceramic coaster, someone had left an empty drinking glass tipped on its side. I stepped carefully toward the rounded rim and peered straight through the curved glass bottom. The living room behind it warped into a swirling, inverted picture—the sofa looked massive, and the rug turned into a strange grid. I leaned one hand against the cool, thick rim to keep steady, raising my toy phone toward the curved lens to see if its dark screen caught the distortion. The shift in perspective was neat, completely silent, and very clear.