Lukisan Langit Novels & Stories

He studied the simple landscape I'd started—moonlit mountains under a night sky—and nodded with satisfaction. "Good. Keep it simple. Nothing provocative," he instructed before leaving again. I continued working on the "approved" painting, making it exactly what Lucas wanted—a childish scene with blue sky, mountain peaks, and fluffy clouds. Nothing that would draw attention away from Claire Redwood's work. When night fell and the house grew quiet, I took out another piece of paper and began mixing my inks. My eyes gleamed with renewed passion as I worked, losing myself in creation after so long.

But this ain't just any ol' sky—this is like the most epic, jaw-dropping, out-of-this-world sky you've ever seen. The colors? Bruh, they're straight-up celestial—indigo, violet, and turquoise swirlin' and dancin' across the canvas like they're throwing' a rave up in space. And the stars? They're twinklin' like they have a secret to tell; each constellation has' its own story against the backdrop of the cosmos.

Lawrence prophesied staring daggers at him. “Maybe that's my dialogue? By the way, as a final point, the sky is not constant. It keeps changing its color, blue in the morning, red in afternoon and almost black in the night. The wind blows which is its perpetual essence. No force can change it. That's why it is used to generate electricity. So don't mess with leccy, it can kill you.” Saul snickered. Unable to find words Lawrence walked away. ****

He was especially feeling today, but…. There’s only one moon on the ceiling. A frown etches itself across my face because why is that? I drew those moons myself. The whole landscape. I wanted it to be that whenever we looked at the ceiling, we would see us. I drew me and him sitting in the background, just two small dots, and I drew the sea spread out before us. The waves as they crashed on the beach, the heavy clouds on the horizon. The deer just a few paces away, feasting on the grass, and to complete it, the two moons in the distance.

Lance The night was almost as typical as every other night; there’s always the strong presence of the sharp nose-pinching cold breeze. The pitch-black canvas above the sky was dotted with a myriad of stars blinking incessantly. It was such a beautiful natural view that I have learned to appreciate its mesmerizing beauty every single night. Maybe for normal people it was just a distinctive night sky filled with a myriad of stars blinking endlessly, but for me, it's like a painting painted by the greatest painter of all time, God.

I turned to face her and followed my gaze to where she had it: the ceiling. It was a mixture of the day and night sky, the sun, the moon and the stars were mixed with the gray and white clouds, it was something beautiful, the most beautiful painting I had ever seen. “She was a great artist. I didn't reply, but he was absolutely right. I found a small folder compared to the paintings, where there were drawings with charcoal and others with pencil. One better than another. It seems that he really likes to draw landscapes, animals, castles, angels and abstract things, and the occasional demon. The latter were impressive, truly terrifying if they existed.

Music quietly plays in the background as a lady sings about heartbreak. We're seated next to a glass window looking over the city. I happen to look up and admire the black night skies shimmering with stars. They look like little crystals scattered through a black ocean. It holds me hostage for all its beauty on display. I can’t make sense of how the simplicity of the two can be so mesmerising. “It's enchanting, isn't it?” Luca says, breaking my train of thought. “Yes, it truly is.” I smile. He looks out the window, gazing towards the sky.

Sarah teased him, but her happiness couldn’t be measured or described in words. “I gave my best,” Luke pranced like a peacock while he put the empty dishes and the glasses away. Lying down on the blanket, he faced the sky. “Come. Lay by me. I want to show you something.” he said, his gaze glued to the sky. Sarah did as he said, and in a second, she was snuggled to Luke, her eyes directed to the immeasurable body of the universe above them. A space that had no limits and rules.

**[WARNING: NARRATIVE DEVIATION DETECTED]** **[UNAUTHORIZED WORLD-BUILDING IN PROGRESS]** The sky above us flickered. For a second, I saw the Moon—the massive, cold eye of the Aethel-Group. It was trying to overwrite my drawing. It wanted to turn the mud into marble and the grey sky into a neon advertisement. "No!" I screamed. I gripped the pencil with both hands, the wood biting into my palms. "This is our day! Not yours!" --- ### The Second Stroke: The Rain

It showed a bridge. A real architectural bridge with towers and suspension cables drawn with the particular precision of a nine-year-old who had spent considerable time looking at how bridges actually worked before attempting to draw one. Below the bridge there was blue water and on the water there were small boats. Above the bridge there was a sky with clouds that were fluffy in the way children draw clouds when they are happy rather than when they are being accurate. In the bottom corner, in his careful looping handwriting: For the baby. From Luke. Build things.