A Prism on the Sill

A tiny glass prism lay forgotten on the wooden windowsill, catching a stray angle of morning sunshine. Beneath it, a bright sliver of rainbow stretched across the painted timber. I crept forward and nudged the cool faceted edge with my nose. The glass shifted with a gentle clink, sending the colorful band darting up the curtain folds like an elusive moth. I pressed one front paw against the sill to hold the new position steady, watching the red and violet bands settle peacefully into the fabric weave.