(no subject)
Such a beautiful, beautiful day, he mused as he lolled back lazily. Arching his back like a contented cat, he took a sip from the bottle in his hand and eased himself down into a lying position that screamed of comfort, enjoying the zephyr that swept his unruly fringe all over his face. He dreamily traced the paths of the clouds with his eyes, stretching his hand skyward in a futile attempt to grasp the fleeting temptresses of white fluff that hung just out of his reach. He sluggishly lifted the bottle to his lips again before sitting up abruptly, teetering precariously on the tiny ledge. Loudly setting down his bottle, he never looked back, or down, once as he decisively leapt off the building. Yes, it was a beautiful, beautiful day to die.