Waking back up, I’m being grabbed by Jacob, pulled up over the edge and the sun is now hotter than ever before. I pull myself to my feet, proud and nervous. But before I can look up, before I can accept what has happened I spin my sight down. Down all 77 stories of ivory walls. The city is now arresting. I can’t understand it, but from these high up steps, I can now see the aesthetic that wasn’t there from my lowly apartment’s rooftop. Everything, with the lawyers and doctors, husbands and wives, children and elders, is so magnificent and intelligent. Jacob cannot comprehend either. He says to me, “Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ve made it, friend. Look.” And so I look up now.