A Tiny Prism Beam

I slid down from the sofa and stepped across the cool kitchen tiles, looking around before heading outside. Right under the kickboard of the low cabinet, a forgotten transparent plastic drafting triangle was lying flat. I hesitated, kneeling down on both knees to test the sharp ninety-degree corner with my thumb. When I propped it upright against a dark wood cabinet foot, the morning light slicing through the back door caught the angled edge, throwing a bright line of split colors across the linoleum. I pulled out my neon-yellow guitar pick, slid it under the base as a wedge to lock the angle, and watched that tiny band of orange and cyan settle right beside my boot.