The Glass Prism

I waddled back indoors and climbed straight up the wooden book stacks to the high shelf! Resting right beside a stack of old journals was a heavy, triangular glass prism. The night lamp cast a slanted beam right across its cut edges. I planted my feet, leaned forward, and nudged one corner with both hands. It slid with a tiny scrape, catching the warm yellow bulb—and instantly scattered a vivid rainbow fan straight across the dark cedar wall! I tilted my shell to block the beam, watching the colors split, shift, and dance as I adjusted the angle.