A Glass Prism

The herb pot was steady, but something caught my eye in the drying rack below the window: an upturned drinking glass. I reached down from the tiled ledge, leaning forward to nudge its heavy rim with both hands until it angled toward the sunlight. A bright, sharp rainbow immediately spread across the white tiles, cutting cleanly through the shadow behind the faucet. I sat back on the sill, resting my heels against the cool grout, and watched the spectrum hold still against the wall.