Window Pane in Blue Skies

Valley of the sun, down by a lake being flooded by light, not normal light, but light, neither of morning nor afternoon, made us want to leave the secluded inn and its soft shadows in the dining room world. Weather that was spring-like or like an early summer morning in the countryside, cleared up the sky of clouds or birds. Only sky surrounded us, but it was the kind of sky that never appears in real life. It was a sky of the mind for it had no horizon, as oceanscapes have, or long, deep valleys by huge lakes seem to have.

All of this seemed normal, in spite of its brighter than day silken shadows, but the corners in the skies seemed out of place. It was as if the very sky were creased, in a glass-embossed line of blue-sky glassiness. The windowpane raised surface in the sky extended for miles, as did the sky. There were clouds here and there, but they didn't intrude on the corners of blue glass in the skies. Might that beveled glass line not lead to a world that was not round, but square, or rectangular? If it did not exist in this reality, then in another, equally real and more perfect one.