Peering out of this upstairs window I can see the sun coming up over the jagged broken city horizon. Most of my life has been nothing but avoiding the rays of light cast from its bright form that seems to follow me overhead, like a parent watching over your shoulder for ten hours a day. Its funny how when a vague idea that you once entertained becomes real its usually more than you can take. From the height of my third floor window a green sea of forest stretches to the crumbling skyscrapers in the distance, with only a few roofs poking their way like men in quicksand through the thick brush. The majesty of it astounds me when I think how so very short it seems since this was a crawling cityscape. The sky seems to have expanded like deep blue watercolor pouring over a glass bowl. As the tangled mess of skyscrapers and smoke receded a blue cloth stretched itself from horizon to horizon and seemed to almost breath a sigh of relief, like a child holding his breath through a tunnel to make a wish on the other side.
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