Amber Prisms

I stepped onto the curb beside a bicycle leaned against the chain-link fence. An amber spoke reflector sat clamped between two stainless steel wires right at eye level, catching the afternoon sun. I reached out, fingertips resting against the textured plastic face. Through the hexagonal prisms, the light fractured into a tight, golden grid across the asphalt. I nudged the mounting bracket with my thumb until the clamp settled with a muted click, aligning the warm reflection straight over my sandals. Motion paused; light squared away. A clean, quiet angle to rest by before heading home.