He was making a shelf, just cutting some glass along scored lines, the way he’d done so often, goggles in place, gloves, a protective board as he pushed on the glass that was to split in two – and then it shattered. I heard it from the other room, a massive tinkling sound. He called me to see, as it was astounding, so many little glittered cubes littered the floor of the garage. He didn’t realize that it was tempered glass, toughened glass, made to avoid harm when broken. It was supposed to ...