A Ring of Prisms

The daylight had faded, leaving the room submerged in deep shadow. I climbed up the crossbar of the coffee table, drawn toward a heavy cut-glass tumbler resting near an angled brass reading lamp. Moving with steady steps across the walnut grain, I tapped the side of the switch with my palm. A warm bulb flared to life. The sharp beam struck the tumbler's fluted base, splitting across the polished wood into trembling ribbons of amber, pale violet, and rose. I sat quietly beside the base of the glass, watching how a gentle nudge made the colored bands drift like slow ripples.