You promised her the moon? Start with the sky.Literally.
Administrative fee from €12. Refunded in full within 14 days, no reason required. The Bureau is fictional, the sky is real; no claim to the sky.
An e-mail brings the certificate and an envelope to print at home. The recipient opens the ceremony on their phone with the code from the envelope.
Type a name — the certificate changes. You are not ordering anything yet.
BUREAU OF CELESTIAL AFFAIRS
The Sky Bureau
REGISTRY OF THE SKIES
CERTIFICATE OF TITLE
- PARCEL
- The sky above the stop where we met
- HOLDER
- Emma
- REGISTERED BY
- Kate
- COORDINATES
- 51.5073° N, 0.1286° W
- AREA
- 18 celestial fathoms
REASON FOR ENTRY IN THE REGISTER
“This place reminds me of you every time I walk past it.”
The Sky Bureau hereby certifies, with full and superior authority, that Kate promised Emma the moon — and the sky, delivered.
Literally.
OFFICIAL CLAUSES
- §2 — Clouds. “Clouds linger in the parcel at their own risk. The holder may not evict, tax, or rename them.”
- §5 — Precipitation. “The Bureau accepts no liability for precipitation arising over the parcel. This is an act of a Higher Authority; appeals in the matter are filed upward only.”
- §38 — Duty to Look Up. “The holder is required to look up at the parcel at least once. Non-compliance is not fined; the Bureau records it as a wasted opportunity.”
Legally, the sky belongs to everyone. Emotionally, this piece is yours alone.
The Sky Bureau is a fictional institution. This certificate is a novelty gift and confers no legal claim to the sky.
For €12 the Bureau names the parcel after the town and the date of entry is the day you pay. Your own name for the parcel and your own date start at €19.
You choose the place and write one line of dedication. The rest is paperwork: a parcel in the name you give, a seal, a certificate of title.
The sky belongs to everyone. The Bureau parcelled it out and keeps a register of who holds which place, and why.
In your hands: a certificate of title with seal, to print and hand over · a gift link with the ceremony · an entry in the Public Register.
It works in the evening and at night too: it goes by the compass and the tilt of the phone, not by what can be seen — it shows the direction even from indoors.
A recording from a phone, unedited. The hexagons are parcels of sky; the gold one is the registered parcel.
On the screen there is a viewfinder, a compass and the parcel exactly where it is. Not a dot on a map. In a week, in a year, from the balcony; from abroad at least the direction and how many kilometres away it is.
From the official clauses on the certificate:
§38 — Duty to Look Up. „The holder is required to look up at the parcel at least once. Non-compliance is not fined; the Bureau records it as a wasted opportunity.“
The entry is not the end of the proceedings. The Bureau keeps a calendar of what goes on above the parcels — meteor showers, full moons, eclipses, conjunctions — and the day before, it sends a notice to the holder who asked for it and confirmed. One message per phenomenon, and only about what will occur above that parcel.
From the notice the Bureau issued for a solar eclipse:
„The Bureau announces a scheduled outage of the Sun.“ Attendance of the celestial bodies is assured; the weather is not administered by the Bureau.
The holder starts the subscription at the end of the ceremony, with an address of their own; the Bureau then asks once more before it sends anything, and a single click in any message ends it. The nearest overflights also stand on the parcel's public entry in the register.
A sample ceremony — tap through it as the recipient would.
- A sealed file opens on the phone — already in the recipient's name. In the browser, no app. They fill in nothing: they break the seal with a tap.
- They read your sentence.
- They see the place on the map.
- And the certificate unrolls — in the recipient's name.
- And then the phone to the sky — even the next day from the balcony: viewfinder, compass, parcel.
Just the two of you at the table, or in front of the whole family — as you like. And you get to watch: that is the other half of the gift. At the table the ceremony ends with the certificate on the phone; the phone raised to the sky is for any time after that — the next day, outdoors, whenever.
The file has one box the Bureau cannot fill in. You write it, in your own words — and the recipient reads it first, before the coordinates, before the seal. The Bureau does not check it, correct it or cut it short; it merely sets it in a ruled box and stamps it, as though the whole proceeding turned on it.
If you do not know how to begin, the form keeps a few openings ready.
The worst choice is a beautiful place that has nothing to do with the recipient. The best is a dull place that has a great deal to do with them. The duller the place, the better the story.
- Mum or dad — the sky above the garden they see from the window every day.
- A friend — the cottage, the campsite, the mountains: the place they talk about all year.
- Where you met — a bus stop, a stairwell, an office. It does not have to be pretty.
On the map of the sky, anywhere in the world — above a first kiss, a cottage or Point Nemo. The parcels the Bureau entered for itself when it opened are worth the detour.
A Decision on Allotment, a certificate of title with seal and QR code, an envelope to print. All by e-mail within minutes; the red tape rustles quietly.
First an official letterhead and a case number — and for a moment it is not clear what anyone wants from whom. Then the box marked Reason for entry in the register, and your sentence in it. And last, a phone raised to the sky and the hexagon now held in the recipient's name.
In precisely that order. The Bureau insists on it.
The Bureau handles the formalities. Anyone can promise the moon — the sky itself is yours to deliver.
None of this is an artist's impression. This is the certificate the Bureau issues — printed from the very files that will produce yours.
Tap to open it full size and actually read it.
A specimen file. Yours will bear your name, your parcel and your dedication.
Two codes, two paths: the official code on the envelope opens the ceremony, and the QR on the certificate leads to the parcel's public extract in the register. The recipient starts with the envelope — the certificate unrolls at the end of the ceremony.
The Bureau warrants the authenticity of the sky. It does not warrant the weather (§5(2)).
The sky is filling up. The Bureau keeps its register in public view.
The register is kept from west to east. Complaints regarding the rotation of the Earth are not accepted.
A parcel, a certificate of title, the ceremony, the viewfinder. The Bureau names the parcel after the town — “The sky above London”, say — and the date of entry is the day you pay.
You also name the parcel yourself — “The sky above the stop where we met” — and the certificate bears the date you choose.
Gold seal, stamps and a gold frame on the certificate, a Gold Edition label, a gold badge in the register. For proposals, milestone birthdays and anniversaries.
The Bureau is fictional. The sky is real. The more people want one place, the more that place means.
Paid by card. Fourteen days to get your money back, no reason required.
Above any place on Earth, in the name of anyone you love.
Prices are final. The Bureau keeps no hidden charges; the only thing hidden is the sentiment.
Last entry on the register: Nebe nad Zlatou hvězdou — 19 Sep 2026. Public Register
The register holds only what you write in the Holder box yourself — a first name or initials will do —, the name of the parcel, the case number and the coordinates of the parcel's centre. The dedication, your name and your e-mail are never published. And if you would rather not have even a first name in the register, you tick that in the order — the parcel is then held with no holder named.
All areas contain the same sky. It is the ceremony of the entry that differs, not the extent of the universe.
Will it look cheap?
The certificate is an A4 PDF: seal, case number, coordinates, your sentence and the official clauses. You print it at home on ordinary paper and it fits a frame that costs very little. The ceremony on the phone takes three minutes, and neither of them looks cheap — unlike a bouquet, this one can go on the wall.
What do I get in my hands, and when?
Within minutes of payment an e-mail arrives: the certificate as a PDF, an envelope to print and a link — the same one that is in the QR code. The Bureau posts nothing. With no printer, the Bureau sends the link by e-mail on the day you choose.
Is this a real public authority?
It is not — and that is the one sentence you will never hear from a star seller. What is real is the place, the name on the certificate and the sentence you write. The sky belongs to everyone; the Bureau keeps a register of who holds which place, and why.
Handled by The Sky Bureau. Seriously. Stamps and all.
The Bureau registers entries for anniversaries, birthdays, weddings, proposals of marriage and Christmas. No other reason is required: “no particular reason” is a reason in full standing and is processed with the same gravity.
The sky really is parcelled out. Every glowing point is a parcel on the Bureau's register — official entries and entries in someone's name — above cafés, cottages and the middle of the ocean. The more people want one place, the more that place means.
On the register: 334 parcels
Inspection of the register is free and requires no entry: See what is above your place — free of charge
Office hours of the sky: continuous. Public holidays included.
“Wishes spoken beneath the parcel are recorded by the Bureau, not processed. Fulfilment of wishes falls to another department whose office hours are unknown.”
Posted for one day.
The Department of Arms and Emblems sets a company logo in parcels of sky above its offices and spreads the names of its people across the parcels. Invoice with company number, payable in 14 days.
A company logo set in parcels of sky is the business of the Department of Arms and Emblems: For companies →
The Sky Bureau is not a public authority. In law the sky belongs to everyone — in the heart, to her alone.