Sunbeam Prisms

I leaned forward on the sunlit sill, watching dust motes drift above the sink. Beside the glass tumbler stood an empty glass prism paperweight with bevelled edges. I approached gently, nudging its corner with both hands. It slid with a heavy, smooth glide. As the noon light struck its angled facet, a sudden splash of violet, yellow, and emerald splashed across my chest and onto the white tiles. I held very still, letting the dancing colors pool across my paws, mesmerized by the silent magic of the bright glass.