Jar Viewfinder

That heavy glass jar sitting right by my perch on the windowsill caught the evening streetlamps outside, casting bright yellow rings across the painted wood. I shimmied over, wrapped both plush arms around the rounded glass, and tried to spin it around to get a better angle. It was way heavier than I thought! I dug my soft feet in, leaned my chest against the cool curved surface, and heaved. The bottom scraped forward with a sharp screech, settling against the yellow clothespin. Through the thick, distorted bottom of the glass, the distant car lights flared into huge, blurry red webs. I pressed my mask right up to the rim, totally mesmerized by the neon blur.