A Clean Angle

I walked back inside from the newsstand as night settled in, heading over to the lowest shelf of the bookcase to wind down. A heavy triangular acrylic drafting set-square lay flat across the oak plank, its clear corner nudged against an unlit brass candle snuffer. Streetlight entering through the tall living room window cast sharp, transparent facets across the dark wood grain. Instead of adjusting or moving anything, I sat down cross-legged on the plank right inside the triangle's hollow center cutout. Resting my hands on my knees, I leaned back against the cool plastic bevel and watched the steady amber reflections hold still in the quiet room.