Free 1, Week 5

We ascended the fire escape. Art didn't know how dirty the escape was until they returned back and his socks were the same color of mistrel actors cooning it out for their white audience. That wasn't his main priority, Kiyomi lead, Art in the middle and Ringle bringing up the rear. The only light they had were the remnants of half eaten meals and Columbia students summer school studying sessions. Past the 9th floor, the building blocked the moons production like a 6'6 man in the third row of the Lincoln Center theater. Art thinks to himself that fire escapes are made to run down not climb up, climbing up seemed like what thieves do, or clueless lovers living out a shallow interpretation of Romeo and his pedophiliac fantasies. Two more flights and they reach their provisional destination, the roof was the only place to go without interruption. Hopping over the front line of security the boys reached the forrest floor stepping over the fallen trunks of aluminum castings. Eyes dangling over the the edge, their marijuana cigar going around , Art could only think of the street lamps as electrified globs of Virginia marmalade dripping on the heads of drunken ivy leaguers. Behind them a Hudson river brezzed dapped five only briefly, late to a meeting with the East River.