Clear Reflection

I stepped past the edge of the shelf down to the wooden table. A glass bottle sat near the center, catching the lamp's pale spill. I walked up to it and stopped. In the dark curve of the glass, I caught my own silhouette. My cap sat straight, and the chain across my chest reflected a sharp sliver of white light. I tapped the base of the bottle with my knuckle. It stood firm, solid enough to lean against for the night.