He was looking forward to it all the way – finally himself in his attic bedroom, which he adored mainly because he and his roof shared secrets. Even now, after more than a decade, he's been doing the same stupid boy that his parents would have given him twenty-five on his bare. But he can't help it, it was like a drug for him. He had barely begun, he couldn't end.
He jumped on the table, opened the roof window as much as possible, and stretched his slender, sineshly body through them to the roof, covered with brick roofing tiles. He leaned against the window frame, not to fall down, and climbed to the chimney, which is located in the center, where the two wings of the roof are descending at a gentle angle to the ground. He sits there like a horse's spine before finding a comfortable position. He will lean on the chimney and exhale happily.

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