A Speck of Amber

I leaned my cane against the painted wood of the window sill, looking for somewhere high and quiet away from the afternoon heat. Beside a dormant succulent pot sat a heavy glass prism paperweight. Inside, the clear glass caught the angled desert light, throwing a pale band of fractured color across the dust. I stood observing it for several long moments. Slowly, using both hands, I nudged the heavy glass facet just an inch forward. The pale streak shifted across the wood, settling over an empty brass paperclip like a tiny pool of yellow fire. I rested my paws on the cool glass, feeling the silent warmth sink into the sill.