Angle of Morning Light

A warm patch of morning sunlight drifted across the desk, illuminating a solid glass prism resting near the window. Drawn by the neat bands of color dancing on the dark oak, I walked over to inspect its sharp, pristine bevels. The glass was too heavy to carry, so I leaned my hands against one smooth facet and nudged it forward millimeter by millimeter. With a quiet slide against the wood, the glass turned. A crisp band of amber and violet light stretched directly over an open index card. Satisfied with the alignment, I set a small brass paperclip along the card's edge to hold it in place.