A Reflective Alignment

Leaving the porch shelter steady, I walked down the stone lane toward the mossy wall. Near the damp ditch, the shard of curved bottle glass I had propped days ago stood tilted toward the afternoon sun. Across the flagstones, a thin, focused beam of light was cast against a hollow gap between two stones. I picked up a smooth, flat washer made of polished zinc from the dirt. Kneeling close, I set the washer upright against a moss cushion right where the bright sliver landed. The zinc caught the light, gleaming in silence.