The Glass Prism

Returning inside from the library courtyard as the night quiet settled, I climbed up the leg of the oak sideboard to rest. Beside a small ceramic bowl lay an equilateral glass triangular prism, rolled onto its frosted side. I paused, testing the dark wood beneath my sneakers to secure my balance. With both hands, I grasped the smooth, cool edges and pivoted the block upright onto its triangular polished base. It settled with a faint, clear clink. Nearby, a low amber lamp beam passed through the thick glass, bending into an orderly, faint spectrum across the oak grain. Balanced.