Mini-story: Chiaroscuro

I look up from below, at the patchwork of shapes above me. They come in all forms, and all geometries, some moving and some perfectly still. Many have a human shape, or the shape of a tree, or a building, all with skewed angles that shallow and then deepen as each day dawns and passes. To me, they’re like clouds; black clouds on a negative sky, far above me but all within reach. I need only look to one, or fasten my attention upon it, to go there — and then I can be in the real world too. ...