Elira and the Prism

A girl named Elira found an old prism in her grandmother’s attic, its edges dulled but still catching bits of afternoon light. She began carrying it everywhere, fascinated by the way it turned the world into fragments of color. One day, while sitting by the riverbank, she noticed that when she looked through it at certain places—old stones, a lone tree, her reflection—hidden markings and faint shapes began to emerge. Something in her shifted, a slow understanding that the world had layers, and with enough patience and light, even the ordinary could reveal something extraordinary.