Breezes

The light breeze ruffled my muddy brown mane, sending chills down my bare forearms. I hugged myself tightly as another blast of frigid air ruffled my hair around my face. My dark brown eyes fixed upon the melted sky; purples, pinks and oranges; all mixed into a mess of colors called the sunset. The roof was cold, and I could see little patches of ice scattered across the rough black expanse around me. It was dangerous sitting up here in this cold, with nothing dark jeans and a navy blue pepsi T-shirt to keep me warm, but I didn't care. This was my way of making things better. Sure, I was freezing my butt off, but I'd get used to it eventually. I could sit up here for hours and it'd feel like minutes to me. It was my thinking place. When I was little I thought it was magic. I'd found I could climb to this part of the roof from my window when I was 5 years old. And if I fell, I'd simply fall onto the little balcony next to my room window. It wasn't too dangerous. It was possible to fall though; and it'd probably hurt. When I was little, I'd sit out here for what seemed like hours, and go inside and realize it'd only been a few minutes. I swore to myself that this place was magic.

Ha. I wanna write more, but I ran outta time. MOre later. Maybe.