Skylight fantasy

It was the end of lunch period and the screen doors to the cafeteria slammed behind me on my way out. I grabbed my books and walked to the stairwell leading to the long day’s 4th period class. I was in a three-story, Spanish mission-style building with a bell tower and red tile roof. The stairwell was not frequently used by the hundreds of students at the high school.

I had spent large chunks of time during morning classes staring at the clock, taking notes, listening to my teachers drone on. Dutifully attentive, from all appearance, I did try to be a good student. I respected my teachers, although I didn’t have too many that I could say inspired me.

My mind wandered. I doodled in a notebook — the same words and geometrical configurations, over and over again. Bored by the tedium.

Glancing out my World History class window to the porches in the adjacent neighborhood, I gazed fondly at the modest houses. People were sitting in their metal rocking chairs, idly watching the goings-on in the street and along the sidewalks. There wasn’t much to notice in the middle of the morning on a weekday. But I envied their precious freedom. For I was briefly a prisoner in the school buidling they probably looked at all day and never gave a thought to.

The stairwell went up three flights. After I left the cafeteria and was proceeding to the third flood, as I did every day for three years, I looked up to the small skylight, always open to the blue firmament above on cloudless days in spring when every thought I had at those moments was of anticipation of the day’s deliverance, freedom from the long and seemingly unendurable days. I wistfully and longingly looked up at the sky from within the stairwell, wishing I was home. As I always did.

That particular day, I just kept walking. When I reached the top, it was as if the stairs continued. So I ventured on. It got darker, the light from the familiar opening in the roof became dimmer and dimmer. I didn’t know what was going on. But I couldn’t stop.

After a few minutes, I noticed the skylight was gone. I was alone, surrounded by thousands of stars, countless stars, more than I had ever seen before. And they were not far off, either, but all around me. It was cold, but I was not cold. There was nothing around me in either direction.

I started walking again, and the light from those thousands of stars illuminated a path, and everywhere I looked, it seemed like there were showers of silver glitter streaking across the night sky.

The last thing I remember was the light swirling around me in the darkness and disappearing into a tiny opening far off in the distance.