What is skylight. I don’t know if it means light from the sky or if it means like I have a hole in my ceiling… skylight. I am really bad at this. Why couldn’t the word have been dog or candy…
searching for a heaven
without heart or hearth
earth beams joyously in the distance
“there’s nothing quite like smog, i suppose;
eviscerating the skylight, plunging the streams of sun
into the dusk of night”
The light shines above me, so strong I can barely open my eyes. My head is pounding before I even sit up. I don’t have a skylight so once again I am not in my own bed. I really have to stop doing this, I think. Good morning, I say. Because once again, I can’t take my own advice.
The skylight was unbroken, which was strange because it was the only window and yet the floor was strewn with broken glass. “How did they get in?” he said.
“More importantly,” I said, “How did they get out?”
The room was empty, but for the broken glass, a chair, a table, and a single indisturbed mug of tea.
I wish I could have a skylight. To have a little bit of the sky when I want to hide from the world. Just a little ray of hope and possibility when I want to end everything.
the crack in the sky was slowly growing. we had been standıng ın the front yard watchıng for nearly half an hour. a brıght beam of lıght had broken through the clouds and had washed out the entire neıghbor hood ın bright blue light. my friends and i stood wıth our phones out waitıng for a hint or an explanatıon for what was casuıng thıs strange ocurance. suddenly a sırned began to sound. ıt dıd not sound lıke a polıce or fıre truck sıren but somethıng almost like an alarm clock. seconds after a large dark sphere apeared from the crack ın the sky. ıt descended at nearly fallıng speed. the sıren waıled from ıt as ıt fell radiatıng blue light. the shadows of the neighbourıng houses stretched accross the ground as ıt fell and landed wthout a sound out of sight behınd a line of houses a few blocks away.
A big square. Floating overhead, the sun dazzling and I see spots floating in my vision. I lift a hand to create a makeshift visor for my eyes and dust particles dance around the room. I blow a little air softly through my lips and the particles become a ballet.
“Look, I didn’t want to come here.”
“Just stop, it’s going to be fine.”
“We’re literally dropping through the ceiling of the biggest corporation in America.”
“It’s a skylight, they’re practically inviting us.”
Oh skylight, how joyful can it be. When the sun is out, and the birds chase each other through the air, the skylight reflecting on their wings. Just a minute ago I watched a hawk soar above me with the skylight on it’s feathers. Wow, skylight.
the dawn will approach and the rivers will unfreeze
though it now is night and the world seems grim
the skylight is dim
as it stretches over the forests and seas
The skylight is a beautiful piece of architectural design. It allows the light of the day to pour in, illuminating the room with its radiance, whereas in a night with a full moon, the skylight continues to provide a natural glow, that can go well when the room is dimly lit. Of course, a skylight that is improperly designed can be a curse rather than a boon.
She peered into the sun streaming in from the ceiling, trying to get any residual warmth it was offering. The dust from the room filtered the light into something almost glittering and magical. It offset the dankness of the room quite well.
Grace and Jack laid intertwined on her apartment floor, staring up at the soft sunlight streaming through her skylight. They had both intended to get some work done on their respective projects, Grace on her watercolor paintings and Jack on his fantasy novel, but, instead, they had wound up like this. Grace couldn’t deny that she was rather happy about the current state of affairs, even though her paints called to her from across the room.
Under the dome of the ancient cathedral, we bathe in the orange glow that comes from the skylight. The skylight turns all gold to fire, all silver to white, all bronze to earth. We wait for the sun to set before we begin our evening prayers. We count the beads one by one, descending from our necks, all different hues and types. We collect the gems of ancestors’ tears, and we bathe in the stars that grin from the skylight.
The sun shone down through the skylight to light up the entire library. For the first time in ages, someone was making use of the knowledge held in by those walls. There she was, head stuck in a book, the warmth hitting her face being the only thing tying her to the real world.
There is n opening in his house, in his ceiling, and it lets the outside world in. It is where he goes every morning, just to see a fragment of the sky. sometimes it is blue, but sometimes is isn’t. the later re his favorite days. He can watch the storms brewing, and he loves it.
The moon shone down through the skylight casting strange patterns on the attic bedroom floor. Lying in my bed I stared hard at the deeper shadows in the room trying to work out why I felt so anxious. Church bells peeled in the distance which made it all the more strange as there was no church within hearing distance that I knew of. The shadows seemed to be inky black as if there was no substance behind them and I was tempted to get out of bed to walk through them just to make sure there was a solid wall behind them Instead I burrowed deeper under the bedclothes and strained to hear anything else from outside. The only thing I could hear were the distant bells and the thrumming of my own heartbeat. The door handle was suddenly turning, I could hear the faint creaking of the door as it slowly opened inwards into my room Tears formed at the corners of my eyes with utter fear as I realised that I was alone in the house and tried to imagine who or what was about to keep me company.
What is skylight. I don’t know if it means light from the sky or if it means like I have a hole in my ceiling… skylight. I am really bad at this. Why couldn’t the word have been dog or candy…
searching for a heaven
without heart or hearth
earth beams joyously in the distance
“there’s nothing quite like smog, i suppose;
eviscerating the skylight, plunging the streams of sun
into the dusk of night”
laying there, my gaze pointed to the sky.
i see nothing but rays from the bright sun as i lay there.
finally at peace.
laying there, my gaze pointed to the sky.
i see nothing but the starry night sky as i lay there.
finally at peace.
thanks for putting a skylight in my mausoleum.
The light shines above me, so strong I can barely open my eyes. My head is pounding before I even sit up. I don’t have a skylight so once again I am not in my own bed. I really have to stop doing this, I think. Good morning, I say. Because once again, I can’t take my own advice.
The skylight was unbroken, which was strange because it was the only window and yet the floor was strewn with broken glass. “How did they get in?” he said.
“More importantly,” I said, “How did they get out?”
The room was empty, but for the broken glass, a chair, a table, and a single indisturbed mug of tea.
I wish I could have a skylight. To have a little bit of the sky when I want to hide from the world. Just a little ray of hope and possibility when I want to end everything.
The skylight shines brightly.
The beauty is astounding to be.
As I see my surroundings, I wonder.
Is there anything missing?
the crack in the sky was slowly growing. we had been standıng ın the front yard watchıng for nearly half an hour. a brıght beam of lıght had broken through the clouds and had washed out the entire neıghbor hood ın bright blue light. my friends and i stood wıth our phones out waitıng for a hint or an explanatıon for what was casuıng thıs strange ocurance. suddenly a sırned began to sound. ıt dıd not sound lıke a polıce or fıre truck sıren but somethıng almost like an alarm clock. seconds after a large dark sphere apeared from the crack ın the sky. ıt descended at nearly fallıng speed. the sıren waıled from ıt as ıt fell radiatıng blue light. the shadows of the neighbourıng houses stretched accross the ground as ıt fell and landed wthout a sound out of sight behınd a line of houses a few blocks away.
A big square. Floating overhead, the sun dazzling and I see spots floating in my vision. I lift a hand to create a makeshift visor for my eyes and dust particles dance around the room. I blow a little air softly through my lips and the particles become a ballet.
The color was perfect, viewed through the glass. She longed to open it, to feel it, to hear it.
“Look, I didn’t want to come here.”
“Just stop, it’s going to be fine.”
“We’re literally dropping through the ceiling of the biggest corporation in America.”
“It’s a skylight, they’re practically inviting us.”
Through the skylight I saw it, black, moving, mysterious…. Could it be what my mind was trying to make it out to be, or was it something more…?
Oh skylight, how joyful can it be. When the sun is out, and the birds chase each other through the air, the skylight reflecting on their wings. Just a minute ago I watched a hawk soar above me with the skylight on it’s feathers. Wow, skylight.
the dawn will approach and the rivers will unfreeze
though it now is night and the world seems grim
the skylight is dim
as it stretches over the forests and seas
The skylight is a beautiful piece of architectural design. It allows the light of the day to pour in, illuminating the room with its radiance, whereas in a night with a full moon, the skylight continues to provide a natural glow, that can go well when the room is dimly lit. Of course, a skylight that is improperly designed can be a curse rather than a boon.
He looked up through the glistening film of the bubble, all slip and iridescence, and he shrugged.
“Are you going to try?”
She joined him, their shoulders brushing together.
She peered into the sun streaming in from the ceiling, trying to get any residual warmth it was offering. The dust from the room filtered the light into something almost glittering and magical. It offset the dankness of the room quite well.
Grace and Jack laid intertwined on her apartment floor, staring up at the soft sunlight streaming through her skylight. They had both intended to get some work done on their respective projects, Grace on her watercolor paintings and Jack on his fantasy novel, but, instead, they had wound up like this. Grace couldn’t deny that she was rather happy about the current state of affairs, even though her paints called to her from across the room.
Under the dome of the ancient cathedral, we bathe in the orange glow that comes from the skylight. The skylight turns all gold to fire, all silver to white, all bronze to earth. We wait for the sun to set before we begin our evening prayers. We count the beads one by one, descending from our necks, all different hues and types. We collect the gems of ancestors’ tears, and we bathe in the stars that grin from the skylight.
The sun shone down through the skylight to light up the entire library. For the first time in ages, someone was making use of the knowledge held in by those walls. There she was, head stuck in a book, the warmth hitting her face being the only thing tying her to the real world.
There is n opening in his house, in his ceiling, and it lets the outside world in. It is where he goes every morning, just to see a fragment of the sky. sometimes it is blue, but sometimes is isn’t. the later re his favorite days. He can watch the storms brewing, and he loves it.
I glanced at the skylight above me, tonight there was only one star. And tomorrow there will be none, it is the end.
The moon shone down through the skylight casting strange patterns on the attic bedroom floor. Lying in my bed I stared hard at the deeper shadows in the room trying to work out why I felt so anxious. Church bells peeled in the distance which made it all the more strange as there was no church within hearing distance that I knew of. The shadows seemed to be inky black as if there was no substance behind them and I was tempted to get out of bed to walk through them just to make sure there was a solid wall behind them Instead I burrowed deeper under the bedclothes and strained to hear anything else from outside. The only thing I could hear were the distant bells and the thrumming of my own heartbeat. The door handle was suddenly turning, I could hear the faint creaking of the door as it slowly opened inwards into my room Tears formed at the corners of my eyes with utter fear as I realised that I was alone in the house and tried to imagine who or what was about to keep me company.
´´ He was in seclusion from the cloud and the rain froze heavy´´, said the operator
´´ I saw the gaps between the skylight ´´, said the bell chimer.