The Crystal Spotlight

The evening draft on that iron landing was beginning to carry far too much insolence for my taste. Slipping back through the cracked window, I left the chilly fire escape behind and claimed the sanctuary of the polished walnut dresser. Right beside the draped lace stood a hefty crystal perfume flagon, dormant under the room's warm glow. With a firm shove of my shoulder, I pivoted the cut glass until its sharp facets fractured the amber lamp into a brilliant fan of prismatic beams across the dark wood. Leaning back against the cool, bevelled flank, I bathed in my custom spotlight. The night outside can wait; my private premiere has begun.