A Beam of Split Light

I stepped past our hazelnut scraper and followed the long morning slant across the floorboards toward the low parlor window. Resting right against the edge of the woven wool rug was a heavy, teardrop-shaped glass prism that had slipped from the hanging cord above. I pressed both flat palms against its cool, beveled facets and nudged the heavy weight an inch forward. As the sunbeam struck its clean edge, bright ribbons of violet, amber, and indigo scattered across the timber planks and wool threads. Stepping directly into the glowing bands, I tilted the heavy crystal upright on its flat base to hold the quiet spectrum still.