Temple at dawn
Gold on stone, a city waking below, nothing yet asked of you
A high marble chamber opens onto a spired city catching the first sun, its light lying in long bars across the polished floor and woven rugs. Low by the cushions sit a slate writing tablet, a singing bowl and a dish of water, all waiting where someone left them. It is the hour before anyone speaks, and the room holds its breath with you.
Indoors, City, Dawn, Sun, Calm, Austere, Grand, Thinking, Cold light, Daylight
In this room
- A journal: what you write stays in the room, and only the people you choose can read it.
- A sound of its own — rain, a fire, a radio station to leave playing.
- A clock that keeps your time.
- A window with the real weather where you are.
- A note for the day, where you will see it.
- Frames for your own photographs.
- A shelf for your files.
- A lamp that turns the room from light to dark.
- The lamps give a soft glow.
- After dark the same room has a night of its own, with its own light.