As a Matter of Thought
Alexandra studied the buildings around her from the roof of her nine story apartment building and contemplated the effect of a fall from her rooftop to the sidewalk directly below her or the alley way on the building’s west end. If she turned her head to the left, she knew she would be able to smell the refuse heaped in and around the dumpsters below. The building directly across the alley was a two-story with shoddy brick construction, a broken iron fire escape, and a Royal Dragon Chinese buffet. She did not like the idea of her broken body being found amongst the stale leftovers, but neither did she wish to perhaps crush a random person beneath her by dropping onto the sidewalk. There were only a few people passing by this late in the evening, but her luck was such that she could not shake the image of an accidental murder accompanying the suicide. Streetlights started popping on and their intrusion forced Alexandra out of her mind. No longer lost within, she could now feel the damp heat of the summer night embracing her exposed skin. Inconsistently, the feeling made her shiver; she loved being warm and death was cold. But what is cold to one who can no longer feel?
Alexandra picked up her journal and pen to scribble out the results of her exercise. As with any philosophical debate, this one had provided more questions than answers. She relished the stream of thought which seemed to have no end. The simple pleasure of thinking halted the journey of her pen across the page. Unconscious of her actions, Alexandra set down her work and stood once more against the roof’s brick walled edge. The structure reached her navel but she knew it was no real obstruction to discovery, only a security measure for those with no real intent to fall.