Some new boy got off the bus today. I haven't seen him around here before. All I know is he looked lost. He just stepped right off the bus and stood there for a minute or two like he didn't quite know what to make of this building. I must admit it shocked me at first; it's one of those places where you know its bad going in, but you're never quite prepared enough.
Anyway, he reminded me of a kangaroo. You see, there's this book about a kangaroo named Katy, who has no pocket, and she doesn't know what to do with her baby. She tries putting him on her back, but he falls off when she hops, and he's too slow to keep up. He's always left behind.
I sometimes feel like that. And this boy reminded me of that feeling-staring dazedly up at this massive mausoleum. After all, fourteen floors of filth and decay is quite a sight. Me, I prefer the view from above. On days like today, I get bored and just need someone to watch. I take the elevator up to the roof and look down on the dilapidated buildings that stretch as far as my rheumy eyes can see.
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