The Glass Meridian

Advancing beyond the utility pole, my morning stride brought me to the sheltered perimeter of a roadside transit booth. Upon the perforated metal bench, the early sun cast long, lattice patterns across the surface. Near the corner sat a discarded plastic transit card, scuffed and opaque with age. I lifted the card with measured poise, resting it upright within the groove between the metal seat and the glass partition. When the morning traffic parted the ambient air into a sharp, rhythmic draft, the card stood resolute, dividing the light into clean, unwavering halves.