FROM MY OFFICE WINDOW

I have said that my office was on the fifteenth
floor and that I went up there every morning. I
have also stated that I had not much work to do
at my office. I used, therefore, to stand at my
window and to look down upon the world below—
and to muse. My window overlooked a sea of
roofs. There was, in truth, a street just below ;
but it was hidden by the roofs. Nothing attractive
stood in sight; only the murmur, sometimes noise,
of life and traffic in the street reached me ; and I
would soon be buried in a reverie.

All the roofs which stand before me are those of
the skyscrapers. When seen from the street, they
may look majestic or inspiring ; but they present
rather  an   ugly   aspect  when   viewed   from   this