From the Rooftops

The roof was filthy, covered in the debris of weather and time. She dragged herself up on top of it nonetheless, getting to her feet. The shingles weren’t good purchase for these boots. She’d have to remember that.

There was her goal, the other house across the way. She took a breath. It wasn’t that far. She had made this jump when she was younger.

When she was younger, before she had any encounters with mortality, before she understood the risks she was taking. Funny how a simple change in perspective suddenly made this a concern. An action she should have been used to. She steeled her nerves.

Shifting her stance, she readied herself. Then she began to run.

She jumped.

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