Center of the Universe

My hair, ruffled by the wind. My feet, dangling over the roof. I can see the highway from here, and all the cars moving endlessly towards unknown destinations. Cell towers blink in concert in the distance, their red lights creating a calming pattern.

I can hear the night creatures returning home, and the day creatures leaving home. The quiet hum of a city not yet awake rests at the edge of my consciousness. Trees rustle reassuringly in the wind, and the birds are beginning to awake.

The clouds overhead drift leisurely, but drift all in one direction, and with purpose. The dawn marches inexorably forward, the sun never ceasing its trek across the sky. Wind blows chaotically among the buildings, and brings with it the hint of saltwater and the steady sound of the waves on the shore.

Around me, everything is moving. Everything has a purpose. I watch and bask in the bittersweet loneliness of being still in an ever changing world. On mornings like this, it even feels as if the whole world rotates around me.

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