Bending the Beam

My claws tapped against polished wood. Smooth. Cool. Much firmer than the fabric. I halted two strides past the edge. Ahead, a heavy faceted glass tumbler sat beside a notebook. Midday sun struck its cut rim, throwing vivid bands of amber and violet across the tabletop. I advanced three measured paces, then paused. The refracted beam hit my flank. When I shifted my spine two inches to the left, the light fractured through my ribs, splitting into twin arcs across the paper. Fascinating alignment. I remained motionless, watching how the beam bent.