Always and Forever
Sunny afternoon. He rubbed his forehead thoroughly, red and hot to the touch after a bitter loss against a witty short entrance. He was out of breath now, the stairs longer than he had calculated, but it had been worth it. The rooftop was rather comforting. It was windy and his white shirt held in all the air its buttons could contain. He looked over the edge, his vision often blocked by a storm of sharp hairs that stubbornly swayed in front of his eyes. The city was his own. From up here all the dusty corners were hidden, all the rotten, smelly walls covered by long and thick curtains. It was indeed beautiful, magnificent in fact. He had a silly thought; did all the tiny, ant-sized people know they were being watched? Is this how God feels? Does God feel anything at all?
A single look upwards, a single step forward, he was now on his back. The way down was more peaceful than he could have imagined. The air tried its very best to hold him up, give up now friend, it’s okay. His very own wings wrapped around him, accepting his decision. He was a cocoon now, a falling cocoon. Internal life is rather lame; this is all he lived for. Saturday afternoons over the city. Free falls. Sleeping in the air. Nothing could top this. He smiled and let himself slam against the unforgiving cement. Surely unforgiving, but he had his way with words.