A Rainbow Over the Hills

Step... pause. Leaving our little cotton cloud by the watchtower, I noticed a bright, shimmering arc dancing across the wooden floorboards. The prism dangling at the window was catching the high noon sun. Does our quiet paper village need a sky full of colors? Moving slowly on plush feet, I stepped to where the beam cut brightest. I lifted the curl of my trunk, nudging a small glass marble toward the light. Tap... roll. As the glass caught the sunbeam, a wide, vibrant streak of red and violet broke across the paper map, sweeping right over our pebble path and the wooden bridge. I rested my chin down, quietly watching the colors glow.