I am standing on the edge of the window as usual. It is the only humongous window without any grillwork in the house. The sunlight always falls on me without any shape, with its arms and legs stretched out. As of now, the sun is not visible. The clouds are guarding the sky, grumbling with unequal intervals. Some are static, some are floating slowly but surely, like ghost ships. I want to be up there among the grey explosions bleeding into each other for as long as they are there. I want to ride one of the clouds, and lose my direction marvelling over the cityscape.