Through the Glass

I hopped from the arm of the swivel chair straight onto the smooth oak desk. An open notebook lay flat under the pale morning light, with a brass-rimmed magnifying glass resting across its ruled pages. I scooted up to the thick glass circle and peered through. The straight blue lines beneath suddenly bent into wide, swimming arches. When I gently nudged the round rim with the side of my stem, the whole grid shifted, making the printed margin numbers swell into giant figures. It was remarkably pleasant watching the flat paper twist into new shapes without tearing at all.