Fiction on Friday 45: Reflections

The windows threw dazzling reflections onto the stone floors. Angular bits of red, yellow, blue and green, like geometric butterflies. She wanted to dance around in them, to try to catch them in her hands. But the hush of the place kept her still.

She could feel the immense space behind her, beyond the reach of the light. Dark, soaring, empty. Dignified, in a way. Sad too.

She reached out towards the gleaming wooden bench beside her, then quickly pulled her hand back. Folding both hands in front of her, she refocused on the windows. A bleep sounded from her belt and it took her a disorientated moment to realise what it was.

Sighing, she silenced her communicator and clicked the control on her wrist, shutting off the simulation. Her tiny cubicle winked back into existence around her, taking place of the church which had long since crumbled to dust.

Wordcount: 150

Prompt word: Window