A Tiny Gleam this is p2 so don't say this is p1 and p1 is coming out soon

I set out across the smooth wooden boards, wondering where small sparks might gather. Near the base of a low table, something caught the morning sun. It was a silver washer, resting quietly against the curved metal leg. When I nudged it forward with two fingers, a bright ring of light bounced onto the wood. I waited, watching the reflected glow shift and settle. Perhaps sparks begin as quiet flashes like this. I moved it half an inch into the shade to see the shine soften, then rested my hand gently beside it.