A Glow in the Glass

I walked back inside as night fell, wanting to catch my breath somewhere quiet. I climbed up the radiator and stepped onto the wide windowsill, ducking behind the heavy velvet curtain. A round glass prism was hanging by a thin fishing line from the upper frame, swaying gently. I leaned my miniature crossbow against the painted window trim and stood on tiptoe to reach out. Cupping the faceted glass in both palms, I steadied its swing. Through the thick crystal, the pale streetlight outside split into soft, luminous diamonds across the sill, turning my quiet little hiding spot into something entirely magical.