She sat there on the ledge, her feet dangling off. She was in no particular rush. Not that she had anywhere to go. There was nothing left to see. She kicked her invisible legs out like a child does at the edge of a pool and leaned back on her invisible arms. She admired the low hum of the world below, the city in a constant hustle and bustle. And suddenly there he was, standing there beside her on the rooftop. “Don’t do it,” she said. The boy recoiled back, shivering with fear. She didn’t bother looking at him.
He cautiously approached the ledge again, and stood there, shaking from head to toe. “Don’t,” she said again. He nearly fell right then and there. “Who’s there?” “Please don’t,” she whispered, this time she really meant it. The boy stepped back from ledge. Only “Oh God” could be heard among the boy’s whimpers and mumbles. She didn’t notice him leave.
This was her favorite spot.
mack rogers writes 