Up on the roof
Now and then, beneath a quiet, deep blue sky, the chimney sweep returns. Up on the roof, he’s not alone — a soft paw appears at the hatch. The cat knows. Her friend has come.
They stand together, facing one another in silence, sharing thoughts only rooftops hear. Below, on the little balcony, her human listens too — not to words, but to the feeling in the air.
It’s a gentle kind of joy, the kind you don’t speak of. Just breathe in.









