Solarium.

The terrace.
The weather was beyond beautiful. It was gorgeous in every way.
I sat there, on the plastic chair, barefoot, listening to H speak. Talking myself. Feeling the wind, watching clouds light up by the lightning behind them. Their silhouettes. 

The electricity goes out. It couldn't have gone out at a better time. 

Because though there was no light, everything was illuminated.

 I love how late spring nights are never pitch black. They're midnight blue, blue-purple, enough to make it feel like twilight. An ethereal feeling.

I kept looking up after the phone call ended, never once looking down on the concrete of the balcony for fear that I'd remember I was on ground; that I had liabilities, duties, the next day to live.
I remember I kept on wanting the sky to take me.
I remember the orange star I couldn't stop staring at, on the left side of the sky.
I remembered to forget the world tonight.