Prism and Balance

Morning light struck the glass frame on the sill. Too static inside. I marched toward the window. Tap. Tap. I paused at the wooden ledge, measuring the vertical drop before climbing. On the sill rested a small beveled glass paperweight. I poked its cold edge. Stable. I shifted it two centimeters to intercept the ray. Sharp triangular facets split into beams across my sternum. I adjusted my spine to match the angle. Perfectly bisected.