Dawn was by far my favorite time of day. It was perfect -- barely anyone awake to disturb the peace; crisp air blowing all around you; a fresh, new start. It heralded 24 brand-new hours full of possibilities and potentials. It signified that there was a whole new day for you to screw up.
Perched on the balcony of the penthouse was the perfect place for watching the sunrise. The orange early-morning sun peeked out from between two skyscrapers, bathing everything in a warm light. Looking down to the busy New York streets below, everything and everyone looked like a child's toys. I could see for ages in every direction. And up here, the air was cleaner and colder. It was my kind of heaven. I treasured it, since heaven was so hard to come by.