The rough, tongues lay quietly underneath my flannel pajamas as I listened to the first birds beginning to wake from from their sleep. Slowly, the light touches my bare toes and I feel the slow creep of warmth over my body. A warm blanket. Silence in the city. No one else is awake, not even the garbage trucks. A few moments of peace in my place of hiding. No alarm clocks this morning. No checking messages. Just closed eyes and warm, rough tiles to let my skin know I’m alive. Rooftops. Places of sanctuary that stay quiet and keep us from getting wet on rainy days.
Here is my Preptober way of thinking about about the word – Roof. Let your fingers fly today!
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