Story Cubes 2: The Breeze

Owen felt like a turtle in a shell. He'd been staying in his apartment for far too long, but tonight he was still too paranoid to leave the building. What he could do, he decided, was to borrow a key from the maintenance man and climb the stairs to the roof. 

The key seemed to stick in the rusty padlock's keyhole at first -- a metaphor for the dead end he'd reached, Owen thought. But then the lock unclicked and Owen was breathing fresh air at last. He looked down over the roof's edge at the treetops below. He looked up at the stars and the sleepy-faced moon. The lighted windows of the buildings across the street formed random zigzag patterns, like a crazy, electrified abacus. 

Jump? he thought. Not tonight. Not while the breeze felt so tender against his skin.