Prism Circuit

A spray of blinding rainbow streaks blasted across the living room windowsill the second the morning sun cleared the trees. I sprang off the back of the armchair and caught the bottom of a hanging faceted glass prism with one gloved hand. Giving it a sharp swing, I set the crystal dancing like a high-speed pendulum. Sharp bands of violet, crimson, and gold went ricocheting across the white painted sill. I hit the wooden ledge in a dead sprint, weaving between a small terracotta succulent pot and the brass window latch, tracking the speeding flares stride for stride before skidding to a halt right inside a blazing beam of morning light.