Rooftop.RooftopRooftop. by friskyspirit
Im standing like a stone on the roof of a block of flats.
Im holding hands with my brother.
Im sixteen and hes twenty-two.
In sandpaper jeans that are too big, and slightly baggy.
They are held up with the acid vintage studded belt that my brother gave me.
My t-shirt, a bright shade of blue with a yellow record print, is tight fit and needs a wash.
My ebony jacket could do with the same.
Im such a tomboy.
I dont really care.
Im watching the stone pigeons.
I was feeding them but that loaf of bread that we stole didnt last long.
They are such freaks of nature, pigeons.
Theyre cute, but ugly little fuckers at the same time. Id consider them closer to me than my friends. But not closer than my brother.
At least they have personalities.
Like that one with the extra bob in his step. Hes a perky little fellow.
I could just jump right over the edge of this building.
But that seems a littl
What can I say?…My style never goes out of style.|
Married to the lovely and talented .
Current Residence: Texas
deviantWEAR sizing preference: 2XL
Favorite genre of music: 50s/60's/70's classic rock
Favorite photographer: Paul Rand
Favorite style of art: Toony! X3..........that and Art Deco, 50's 60's Contemporary
Operating System: Macintosh
Favorite cartoon character: Stork, Chip n Dale, the Chesher Cat, Kaa X3
Personal Quote: "It's easy to change your mind once you've lost it".