The Blue and the Dim and the Dark

I pulled aside curtains the shade of unremarkable nights lost and with absentminded curiosity unlocked the window. It reluctantly opened a few inches, and the indistinct sound of quiet souls searching for closure in city lights slipped in for a moment, and then was on its way. Outside, I could see the single windows of every other room in my wing, all shut tight against the forlorn captivity of their fellow occupants. A million weary bricks were stacked to infinity around the small pockets of human insecurity, building a fortress that greatly exceeded the vision of my own obstinate window. By craning my neck, I barely made out the tiny points of the bright otherworld that lay so far out of reach, just beyond the fingertips of the "angel-headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night."