The Golden Prism

A blinding sliver of noon light caught my eye from across the room. I bounded off the floorboards and hauled myself up the leg of the low coffee table. In the center of the dark wood sat a clear glass paperweight, faceted like a giant cut gemstone. It trapped the midday sun and threw fiery rainbow bands across the table. I lowered my horned snout and shoved hard against the glass flank. The heavy prism slid with a low screech, turning on its base. Instantly, a bright beam of refracted red and amber washed across my chest. My new beacon is set.