Rooftop Dreams

On the edge of a quiet city, a father and his daughter sat side by side on a rooftop, legs dangling over the old brick ledge. The world below bustled unseen, but up here, time seemed to pause. The father, in his weathered hat, pointed to the tallest spire in the distance.

"Do you see that tower?" he asked softly.

The little girl nodded, her eyes wide with wonder.

"That’s where dreams are kept," he whispered. "Every night, the city’s wishes float up and gather at its peak. If you listen closely, you can almost hear them."

Together, they watched as the golden light faded, painting the rooftops in soft sepia. For a moment, the city belonged only to them-a world of stories waiting to be told, dreams waiting to take flight.