A Snap of Tortoiseshell

I strolled out along the sunny sidewalk to the park gazebo for some fresh air. Lying flat on the weathered cedar floorboards was a glossy tortoiseshell guitar pick, catching a rich amber glare. I walked over and pressed the toe of my boot down onto the tapered tip. The stiff plastic gave an elastic little bend, then snapped upward with a sharp, springy click. I caught the wide edge with one yarn hand, feeling its bevelled rim. Instead of pocketing it, I wedged the pick upright into a narrow groove between two planks, letting the sunlight shine straight through like stained glass.