If I smoked this is where I would do it, bare feet flat against the high side of a hot building.
But I don't smoke, of course. Or sit on ledges; I rarely wear a bathing suit outside of a swimming pool. In short, I am careful.
When I pick her up from preschool she is playing on the slide with the Pre-K boys. That's what she calls them, like the Lost Boys or the Boys of Summer, boys in a pack and all the more cool for it. The tallest one slides down head-first and says something that I don't understand and they laugh, crazed, the Pre-K boys and my Zoey. Later when I ask her what he said, what was so funny, she says she doesn't know, didn't know, or maybe she just forgot. The way she pulls at her string cheese like a harpist, she is the prettiest thing in the world and I want to jump, really I do. Instead I pull her back and eat my string cheese in bites.