Above the entryway to my apartment building is a keystone bearing a strange symbol (but I can't remember what it is). I walk across the lobby's black-and-white checkered tile floor to the elevator, and take it to the top floor - the 33rd. My apartment is decorated in fanciful Art Deco style. The view from the windows is dizzying. No matter where I go in my apartment, I can't seem to escape the feeling of vertigo. I'm so high above everything and through every window I only see twinkling yellow lights far below me, all under a sky of absolute black. I take a stairwell to the roof. There cold gusts of wind nearly knock me off my feet. I can't help but peer over a ledge. Terror. My heart races and I brace myself against a wall. I can hardly stand and stagger back inside.

In the morning I go downstairs and explore the alleyway. Graffiti'd on the weathered orange brick are cryptic glyphs; letters (Hebrew? Enochian?), triangles, squares. A stairway leads to the basement, above its door another keystone bearing another forgotten symbol.