Lone Star

In my old appartment, I used to climb up to onto the roof. In the dark, one rung at a time, up the ladder, wind blowing. It was the most exhilirating feeling, of newness and freedom. Sitting on the roof, feet dangling over the edge. The city would gaze back at me, its lights blinking. Promising me new possibilities.

Some nights you can picture buildings being swept away. Everything you ever had just slipping away.

A glimpse out of the window. There's only you and a single lone star.
And out of the billions of people that are living and have lived before you, does it really matter how you feel? What you do?

The lone star shakes its head. And it makes me smile.