The Naked City

She was covered in dirt, but there was nothing she could do about it now. She wiped her dirty hand in her other and then on her sweaty thigh, and stepped onto the television, which buckled but didn't give in. She then stepped with her other foot onto the dirty lid of the dumpster, feeling strange in her sweat and dirt-covered body and mess of curly, wild hair. Without thinking, she looked up at and instantly lunged at the metal bar at the lower end of the escape ladder in a flying leap, grunting as she jumped. She didn't even think of the risk, operating purely on autopilot instinct. Though she would have had a bad fall if she'd missed, she latched onto the lower bar with both hands.

Her grimy, sweaty hands slipped and slid as her body rotated with the momentum of the jump, but she gripped the metal bar tightly, determined to hold on.

She didn't even know if she had the strength to climb up as she dangled, naked, from the bottom of a fire escape ladder, legs kicking and flailing from the momentum of her leap. The calm, homey, late-night vibe was a complete irony next to her desperate, struggling efforts to pull herself up. Quiet Latin music echoed off the walls of the dark alley and the smells of various ethnic cuisine's home-cooking penetrated the warm night air. She winced and gritted her teeth as she struggled to pull herself onto the fire escape by her arms.

She questioned what on earth caused this chain of events, for her to be dangling, naked, her body filthy and sweaty, in a dark alley in the middle of the night. She wondered where her prissy, spoiled attitude was now in the heat of an intense struggle to save her dignity, if not her life. The thought popped into her head of being seen, the cops called, and arrested. In an instant, she imagined the humiliation of her fellow lawyers finding out. How would the other women lawyers she was competing against for the partnership position react if they knew her filthy, sweaty body was hanging from a metal bar, butt-naked, in an alley? Let alone, handcuffed and thrown in the back of a police car naked and taken to the precinct?

It's as if her destiny said, "You want reality? Here!" Like it simply thrust this upon her to give her exactly what she'd been asking for. While numbing and stunning at the same time, it was far too real, far more reality than she'd asked for. She'd had enough and just wanted to get out of this situation.

As she kicked her flailing legs, still in shock, effectively on autopilot, she noticed her heart racing with intensity. There was a feeling of both being half-asleep, almost in a dream state, and yet being in the vividness of intense, life-threatening shock that flowed throughout her bucking naked body. A host of different sensations began to go through her in waves, from heart-pounding fear to tingling all over her due to the gentle, warm breeze of the night air all over. Desperate. Terrifying. Sensual.

Her feeling of complete nakedness was amplified by her kicking and flailing, giving the moment an erotic aire to it that she knew she didn't have time for. As she gripped the bar trying to raise herself onto the fire escape ladder, droplets of sweat beaded and dripped all over her body and then rolled downward in streaks of wet dirt down her front and back. Random droplets fell from her forehead, spraying and landing anywhere and everywhere as she struggled.

She pulled with all her might to raise herself, intensely struggling and squeezing every muscle: her pointing feet, kicking legs, bucking hips, and her stomach muscles and her entire core were flexed to the max. She was aware of her jiggling breasts as she struggled. She kicked her legs wildly in every direction as she pulled with all her strength in both arms and chest to try to raise herself up. She twisted a little sideways in the process due to her right arm being stronger.

Unfortunately, she was not strong enough, and her arms began to extend back down, lowering her despite her strained efforts. Despite that, her kicking, flailing legs tried even harder making a running motion, fighting through what felt like a growing cramp in her entire lower half. She became self-conscious of how ridiculous she must have looked but didn't have a moment to care.

The failure she felt, as her kicking, flailing body was being lowered downward, turned to sudden optimism. The bar she was clutching, and entire side of the ladder she was hanging from, began to also lower due to her weight. The ladder itself was slowly coming downward with a long metal on metal squeaking sound.

As her dangling feet finally lowered and touched the grimy floor, she definitely became aware of intense pressure throughout her entire body, emanating from her lower half like intense, numbing, tingling waves of a cramp in her core and pelvis. She had no time to think about and process it now. On autopilot, she pushed the bar down with her hands and grabbed the handrail of the fire escape ladder as soon as it was low enough. She pulled it down, stepped her bare foot on the ladder, and began to climb up. Her body was more or less functioning and her safety in climbing required her full attention.

She was quite aware that she was half-asleep and in shock, but she proceeded. Being as careful as she could to maintain her balance, and even swaying a little as she climbed up to the first landing, she climbed upward, with quiet metal vibrations echoing her footsteps. After twelve hurried footsteps on the grated metal steps, with focus on alternating hand grips along the railing as she ascended, she somehow got to the first landing up. Breathing heavy and desperate, she reached and the platform, turned the corner of the fire escape, and, staying crouched down, made her way over to her window. She gripped the filthy wood bottom of the window, feeling it covered in dirt like it hadn't been cleaned in years. She tried to pull it upward. It didn't budge, and she let out a grunting "dammmmmit", in her awkward nude perched position.

Nude, on the second floor of a fire escape in the strange back alley, locked outside her own window, her predicament didn't seem real. It was the kind of crazy thought you have from inside your window looking out when your mind flows free, not the kind of thing that actually happens. But it was all too real. This was really her. A 29-year-old professional woman, a lawyer, who had her whole life together one minute, and was now butt-naked on a fire escape in Harlem, gripping the metal railings for her sanity. Yet, she continued on physical autopilot amidst rushing mental thoughts of whatever possible way she could think of to try to get inside before someone saw her. But the reality of it all was just sinking in.

It was a miracle she had not been spotted. If she went back down the fire escape and around to the front of the building, someone would see her for sure. Even if not, there was a locked gate, and the front door would be locked. She would have to run around the building to the street to even try knocking on doors. And it was unlikely a neighbor would have the key to her Airbnb anyway.

She looked upward at the fire escape stretching upward two more stories into the surreal night sky. Stars moved past the thin clouds flowing across the sky, like a quick-moving river. She noticed the clouds as they moved past the upper parts of the steel staircase structure, lit up by a moon somewhere nearby. The corner of the building's roof could be seen against the otherwise unrealistically-beautiful backdrop of the sky.

How was this really happening? Then, she remembered the courtyard on the other side of the building also had a fire escape. She wondered if she could cross the roof and come down the other side, and thought of running up the fire escape two more flights to the roof. Could she? How? A million things could go wrong, even if she could make it up there. The roof could be blocked. Someone might see her. She could fall. She didn't even have a phone to call 911, not that her own law firm representing her in court was an option. She thought of the other lawyers in her firm, an attractive blonde competing for her partnership, and how she'd love all too much to represent her in defending the legal implications of this. No way. She couldn't bear it.

She looked around again frantically. There was no other option. The roof was the only chance. She remembered and consciously suppressed her fear of heights entirely to focus on her grip on the two low rails on either side of the fire escape's stairs.

As she ran her naked, slimy, sweaty, dirt-covered body up the stairs, she realized after about that she was now at deadly heights if she fell. She suppressed her fear of falling and thoughts of being found on the floor of the alley naked, injured or worse, and focused on the grip of her hands. But the fear still caused her to stop.

This was her life, halfway up the second-floor fire escape. She paused to process what was happening, as time seemed to stand still. She held onto the railings with both dirty hands, feeling her grimy grip on the thin metal rails. The ball of her right foot and toes were on a higher step, and the toes of her lower foot were on a step one rung lower. Her legs were both bent at different angles, her back arched, her backside was stuck outward in a half-squat crouch-like position. There was something artistic about it all. Despite being all too real, there was some kind of beauty in it. She held still for a moment and considered her entire life as she looked across the alley, through a dimly lit kitchen through an apartment, where the blue glow of a television illuminated a distant room that seemed to entrance her.

Why was she not the person watching television in that other room? Why was she not the client who needed helping, but the lawyer doing the helping? Why was she not older or younger? Why was her life hers? She looked upward at the moonlight in her perched position, and her life flashed before her eyes. Her life was her own, with all her struggles, all her joys and experiences, and now this event: something so crazy and personal. She wondered if she would make it out of this in one piece. She knew then that she would remember this moment for the rest of her life.

While scanning through different perspectives of her own life and predicament, she became aware of her sweaty body's awkward pose in the warm night air again. The breeze was not just blowing all over, but caressing her entire body. Combined with the pressure waves going through her core, it was strangely but unmistakeably sensual. And, intensifying. Why? Of all experiences, why was she experiencing sensuality? Why now? It didn't matter. She couldn't be distracted by the sensuality of the moment right now. She needed all her focus to get to the roof and get back inside. She had to keep moving.

To be continued...