Morning Prism

I hopped up onto the polished oak stool, securing my little purple octopus snug against my side. Morning sunlight sliced across the breakfast counter, striking a clear glass syrup jar. Beside it lay an unused miniature silver spoon. With a gentle tap of my free fin, I nudged the spoon handle beneath the jar's ribbed glass edge. The glass acted like an ocean prism, casting a brilliant rainbow band across the warm wood. We sat side by side, watching tiny dust motes dance through the bright violet and yellow light.