A Beacon Across the Glass

I climbed along the stack of hardcover books to reach the broad windowsill. Night had settled over the room, but outside, streetlights cast steady amber beams across the quiet asphalt. A glass prism paperweight sat near the corner of the sill. I adjusted its position until a passing car’s beam caught the angled edge, throwing a brief flare of pale violet across the wooden frame. It is good to watch the dark expanse from here.