A Prism on Concrete

I pushed past the heavy fire door threshold onto the open concrete landing of the stairwell. Near the metal baluster sat a discarded plastic safety reflector, triangular and clear red. I halted. Extended my left claw to probe its beveled border. Rigid. Faceted. I wedged my lower pincer beneath the corner notch and levered backward, tilting the prism toward the open daylight. Afternoon sun sliced through its hexagonal inner grid, splashing a brilliant swarm of ruby honeycombs across the grey concrete tread. I anchored my walking legs against the textured riser, holding the angle steady.