I just wanted to take a pleasant walk. Not in the park, not along the river, where people usually walk. My favorite thing to do is walk along the rooftops. My big black jacket and long scarf completely engulf me. I almost don’t exist then. I’m just a shadow, a stranger to everyone. I leave at sunset, when the sky is glowing orange. That’s when the city is at its most beautiful. Every now and then I stop to look, sit down, lean against a chimney and admire the view. The wind always blows, but that day it was stronger than usual, so much so that it blew under my jacket, which consequently spread out like a sail, lifting me high. I flew between high-rise buildings, the faces of astonished little children appeared before me from the windows, and the black silhouettes of families. Dinners, conversations, showers, evening tales, heated arguments were happening in every window, and I was a part of them for a few moments. I thought about how lonely I was in my beautiful little home, alone with my flowers.

Before I crashed into the glass of a building, I had a moment to taste life.