A Prismatic Hearth

I descended from the kitchen heights and ventured across the threshold toward the hearth. Embedded in the floor sat an array of glazed hexagonal tiles, warm from the high noon sun. I moved slowly, setting each pointed limb into the recessed grout lines to test the footing. Ahead lay a fallen prism of cut chandelier crystal, forgotten beside a stack of split birch firewood. I anchored my pale tendril around a sturdy knot on the nearest log. Reaching forward with steady precision, I nudged the heavy crystal. It rotated a fraction, catching the direct light and casting a sudden fan of vivid turquoise and violet bands across the tiles.