She gazed at the stars. It wasn't hard to admire the subtle and overwhelming contrast of the delicate twinkling of the stars against the heavy drop of inky blackness. It was rather surprising to her that she could almost forget that something so beautiful existed over her head every night.
Now all she needed was her epiphany. She hoped it would come soon. She slapped at her leg. With the itchy bug bites on her legs and an ache in her back from the uncomfortable position she was forced to sit in, the excitement of roof-climbing was starting to wane.
She concentrated even harder on the stars. It was so... big. There must be an epiphany somewhere up there for me to read, she thought. Instead she just began to feel small. And silly.
After all, she was just a strange girl perched on top of her roof for no particular reason. That's all she could think of herself. Strange. There wasn't really anything terribly special about her. She couldn't run a mile very fast or learn music by simply listening to it or put computers back together. She didn't consider herself that smart or kind or athletic and she had given up trying to be cool a long time ago. Besides, she didn't really want to be all that anyway. She learned that what she really wanted was to be a good story-teller. She wanted to make people laugh. She wanted to jump off things and explore and admit her feelings and be brave. Maybe that's why she climbed the roof in the first place.
The roof-climber thought about all this and looked at the stars again. They didn't care about any of that, she thought. Neither did the rocks...