Fractured Light

Morning light cut across the floorboards in narrow bands. An obstacle course of shadow and glare. I charted a path along the baseboard, keeping to the perimeter where cool shade lingered. Beneath the shelf of the table, a clear glass marble rested against a magazine. It had trapped a stray beam, scattering pale prisms into the recess. I paused. Lowered my stance. I studied the refraction before taking three deliberate steps forward. With the tip of my boot, I nudged the glass sphere. It rolled half an inch, shifting a sharp beam of light against the dark grain. A quiet discovery.