Of Rooftops

Hi everyone! I'm not writing a full-fledged story - because crafting characters takes patience and I'm not getting the time - so here’s an abstract piece of prose! Also, this is written from the point of view of a boy - for a change.  


                                                                 

This messy town has about two thousand twirling rooftops.

“Shall we go together?”  You said.

“Can we see the stars?” I asked.

“Yes, we can.”

You tilted your head; I smiled.  A promise was made.

Tip top tap. Down to the Bakery. The back door opened to  a stairway - what a swaying form of elegance! Cream-coloured, with pink petals - crafted on slender bannisters; 'twas the art of angels. Each stair like a cloud, with golden linings - never silver, never less, always more. Every step, every footfall, light like the summer rain, sprung us upwards to some kind of heaven.

I smiled, held your hand - watched your brown tresses bounce about your eyes. Your frock danced, swished from left to right, royally ignoring the beat of your little feet. And your voice, chasing the shadows - might have belonged to a wood-elf. Your footsteps, whispered tales of hundreds of escapades. Well, all things considered, aren’t you just lovely?

We climbed and we climbed, and our little fingers grew red - rough with the falling over, burnt with the fatigue. After all, there were a thousand steps and we were headed for the sky! We paused, we halted, we rethought our lives on the way - but we never stopped. Then there shone a  glint in your eyes - of some kind of crazy happiness. There it was - the second door, the door to the Night.

You pushed forward, and we looked up. A canopy of stars.

A deep blue night - smooth like silk, not a ripple in the way, with sprinkles of light. It reminded me of my heart - so nonchalantly plain, but still peppered with feelings. That moment, I granted my mind, the expansive ability to embrace the Greater Good - the sky of infinite possibilities and glorious ambitions. I could swear - on that night, even standing on a shallow rooftop felt higher than the tallest skyscraper.

So close to the Universe, I felt myself almost reach up - if only my fingers could curl into the night sky, I knew the stars would slip out of reach, but at least - even if for a second - at least I would be able to touch eternity. The Wind blew, and so did the fairy dust. Away and away blew the dreams of people drowned within pillows and bedsheets. Legions of hope, and shimmering sentiments - pain, joy, fear and triumph. I sensed the World’s desires blending into the mirror of Night. Into the sky, which remained dark, despite so many clusters of shining stars.

I sighed. Your hand reached out for mine. What is love? Hey, look at me, don’t close your eyes. I touched your cheek, and you turned to me, laughing.

“What is love, anyway?”

You blinked and thought and said- Love is when you look up there and see a billion stars, but when I look into your eyes, and I see a couple of billion more. When you see brilliance in spots of fire, but I glimpse brilliance reflected in your smile.  You reach for the sky, I see your fingers open up to the stars - and I? I reach for your hand because oh my god, you’re so beautiful - who cares about the stars when you are right next to the Sun?

Well, wow.

You know what I love the best about you? Your presence - always unwavering and luminous.

After all,  I've loved many women, but you are the only one who can speak to my soul. Your smile lingers on inside my heart, like a puff of warm nostalgia. You, whose face is bursting with laughter, happy untainted beautiful laughter - so lovely, that the more I look, the more the stars seem to fall, like snowflakes, from the inky sky right into your eyes. And they gather there, very slowly, like a congregation of floating lights; brimming - on the edge of tears.

Can we climb more rooftops, every day, for the rest of our lives?

Together?

Together.

Our feet, no longer as nimble as when we were children, can’t hold us down - because now we have wings. Lying here facing the Universe, I feel the enormous pull of gravity, I see the dance of the stars, flitting from sunset to sunrise - but most of all, I feel the warmth of your hand, and I know. There are worlds within each of us - worlds which make us who we are. How fortunate is it that your world collided with mine? On that beautiful day, at that perfect time?

Because my world would be a lot stranger, without you in it. My world would be a lot dimmer, without you in it. My world would be a lot smaller, without you in it.

But really, my world, wouldn't be a world...without you in it.