A Prism in the Morning Beam

I slipped out from under the paper tent as the morning brightened. Across the weave of the rug, a clear glass coaster lay angled against the leg of the coffee table, catching a sharp ray of sun. When I stepped into the band of warmth, a curved ribbon of pale violet and gold spilled across the floor right at my feet. I tilted my brim, nudging a tiny, smooth brass washer with my base until it settled directly into the purple band of light. It glowed like a tiny lantern made of sun.