by solaris2001

As a child, he would lay on his back with his neck on the doorsill to the second-floor apartment balcony, staring up at a clear sky and imagining himself atop an infinite universe, suspended from a carpeted and wooden ceiling as the shag left vermiculate impressions on his bare back and arms. His eyes would squint to find the deepest crevice of blue and suppose that this was where gravity would take him, should he fall. Or, if dark clouds hovered beneath him, he saw himself running across them like mattresses lined up on a showroom floor with no horizon.