Item
A Light
Title (Dublin Core)
A Light
Description (Dublin Core)
Story
Date (Dublin Core)
Creator (Dublin Core)
Contributor (Dublin Core)
Controlled Vocabulary (Dublin Core)
Curator's Tags (Omeka Classic)
Curatorial Notes (Dublin Core)
Date Submitted (Dublin Core)
05/10/2020
Date Modified (Dublin Core)
05/13/2020
Date Created (Dublin Core)
04/19/2020
Text (Omeka Classic)
There’s a building. Every night the light comes through the window. It’s from an old commercial building across the way. Its not harsh, per se, but persistent. A pale. White. Fluorescent light. It illuminates an old stairwell. The building must be at least a hundred feet tall. As is mine, and from the eighth floor I can see it. The irony is it’s the only landing that still has a light in this old building. The only one. And it shines there, one floor above mine. Across the way. Looking down on me. At any moment I expect a man to come out of the door. And why not? Isn’t that what it’s there for? The landing. The door. The light. I’ve thought about it so much now that if I was to see someone come out the door I think it would scare me half to death. And yet there it is. My constant in the night. Unmoving. Placid as the moon in the sky. Until you fall asleep. And suddenly it isn’t. The moon slips away from you. Like lovely memories into the night. Tomorrow I’ll awaken. The day bright as the one I left behind. That light will still be on. Illuminating nothing in the daylight. But maybe a man will come through that door some day. Maybe. May it be.
Accrual Method (Dublin Core)
3787