Evening Starlight

I slipped back inside from the library steps just as the streetlamps took over the night outside. On the corner of the side table, an old rotary fiber-optic lamp sat quiet, its fan of thin acrylic strands drooping completely dark. I vaulted onto the tabletop and checked the underside dial. The tiny thumb switch was caught halfway on a tangled scrap of colored ribbon. Wedging both gloved hands beneath the knot, I gave it a sharp, deliberate tug until the ribbon pulled clean away. I clicked the black dial fully forward—the base whirred softly to life, sending a sparkling constellation of bright cyan and magenta light bursting straight across every strand tip!