When I was 11 years old, my family moved into another house. It was a two-story house on which had a wide top. The top floor was my favorite spot. Neighbor houses were also two-story. So whenever I go up there, there was nothing that blocked my sight. When I put a mat on the floor, it dramatically turned into a small theater. I spent most of the time on the roof, watching the dynamic animation the clouds made for me. However, the sitting was too solid to sit still, compared to the fluffy chairs in the theater, and my back or bottom was hurt due to the tiny stones under the mat. So I had to remove them or change positions in every few minutes. Anyway the top was a perfect place to observe four seasons. My favorite season was winter, for I would be always the very first to make footsteps on the white soft snow field. I especially liked the way it sounded when I slowly walked on them.
My best friend lived in 6th floor in an apartment across the street which can be seen clearly from the top. We hung out a lot going her house and mine back and forth. At that time there were not many ways to make immediate appointment with friends. It was either by calling a home phone or just visiting a friend's home and calling their names in front of the door, if she or he was not at home, we were just sorry. But my best friend and I had our own special way.
She knew where I would be usually. When she felt like coming to my house, what she needed to do was to get out of the front door and check though the hallway window whether I was on the top or not. As I heard someone shouting loudly and looked automatically at the direction where the sound might have come from, it was her, stretching her arms at full length and swinging them vigorously. We knew we couldn't really get the meaning even if we shouted full-throated. So we came up with this idea of using our body to communicate. When she pointed with her finger and directed it back to forth over and over, it meant that she was coming to our house. If I had things to do other than playing with her, I had to make my finger like a telephone, meaning I would call her.
The top was a great playground for us. One day, we had a fashion show on the roof. I brought my mother's prettiest high-hills and jackets. Wearing those made us feel we'd already become adults. How clumsily we walked on the steep shoes and posed as if we're supermodels! I remember a time when her and my family put up a tent on the top and slept over. We had barbecue party at night and endless talked over by watching numerous stars, guessing what kinds of constellation the stars had.
When I entered mid-school, my family had to move to another district, since then I barely saw her. Sadly, the house was also currently removed to build up an apartment complex. I feel like I've missed two important parts in my life. Before losing my friend too, I should really go and call her up right now.