Black and white October: — RECKLESS —

It's evening. People are making noise downstairs, and laughter and shouts are coming from the open windows. The sweet smell of cigarettes drifts up, and the wind caresses my skin, as if trying to adjust my carelessly worn clothes.

I wonder... is it reckless or just a way to feel alive to sit like this, on the wires between the buildings, listening to every sound and observing the life below?