When my family lived in a house in Oakton, VA from 1987 to 1994, I lived on the top floor and had a bedroom window overlooking the backyard and the deck. A lattice-like framework was over the deck: not completely covering it, but strong enough to walk on, and that framework connected to lower parts of the roof. There's at least one picture of me sitting out there reading a paperback.
I liked getting up there; sometimes I did it at night. There was one night when I probably shouldn't have done that, though it worked out; while I was on the roof, I saw a helicopter circling, spotlight going past our neighborhood and the greenbelt areas and small lakes near it. Turned out the police were searching for an on-the-run suspect. What if they'd thought I was the suspect? I've seen films and shows like this. Me ducking back into the house then, heh, could've looked bad. I just stayed out there until well after the helicopter had moved on. That was my only brush with drama from sitting on a roof.
Two weekends ago while on a walk, I happened to see a couple of kids sitting on a house roof, just outside of the window they'd passed through and looking down on a SE Portland street. I liked seeing that and thought "I'll write about that." Thus, this.