A Tiny Prism Beam

I marched down the porch railing toward a small glass prism left on the painted outdoor table. I paused, tilting one antenna toward the sharp crystal facets. Step by step, I nudged a loose metal washer right beside it until the noon sunlight hit the glass at just the right slant. A tiny strip of pure violet and gold spilled across the weathered wood, landing directly on my front foot. I leaned in close, tapping the glowing patch to see if light felt heavy. It didn't push back, but it warmed my plush toes wonderfully.