Prism

Trying to keep my balance I tiptoe across the floor, jagged pieces of glass scattered haphazardly, taking on a life of their own, hoping, yearning, begging for me to slip and indulge them in my  mishap.  I hear breathing in the room and faint laughter, sadistic, perhaps content on  watching my every move.  I pick up a shard of glass and it is momentarily transformed, and the with sunlight casts a prism.  I am not fooled, and eventually make my way out of the room quickly, but gingerly, without looking back.