integers

It's 9:00 and I see the lantern outside. It glows. I've been waiting for it to show up for hours; the shine of this lantern. I want to stand underneath it, but I'm separated by decorated glass. I'm almost there. My hand rests against the window-like surface, and my hand reflects the light. The light bounces off my arms and each hair on it shines. I look in the light and my eyes feel different. I don't really focus on the dark surrounding it, I just like to see how beautiful things are, but I acknowledge its presence. I see my shadow reflected on the door in front of me. Gray drapes over the wooden patterns. The rug lies underneath my feet. It