The wind hissed like the rising whispers of six million New Yorkers. From up here the city lay silent. Dottie wore her favorite shoes—a low wedge. High enough to draw the wandering eye but not high enough to keep it there. There was nothing particularly significant about these shoes. They’re not from a special occasional. Not a gift from a friend. She had no defining experiences in them. They were decisively normal. You could find the same pair in closets all around the city. Not on display. Tucked behind old suitcase. Sticking out under a pile of sweaters. That’s probably what drew her to them. Anonymity in normality. She stepped out from the safe embrace of the buildings inner walls. Her right foot hit the cold air and searched uncomfortably for the ground below. It became unavoidably apparent that 102 stories lay beneath her feet. Sixty thousand tons of steel, 200,000 cubic feet of limestone, and a renewed sense of exploration were all that stood between Dottie and the concrete below. Her heal landed on the balcony and with it her stomach settled from her throat.
Just a year ago this real estate was reserved for pilots and pelicans. Now the clouds made
room for business tycoons and shady grifters who conned their place up with the gods. The Empire State Building. Tallest in world. Hundreds of men left their families earthbound as they ascended upward with lunchboxes and guts of steel. For a year, they arrived to their open-air offices with 360-degree views. All in a day’s work. All in the name of American ingenuity and ambition. Their weathered boots scaled steel pillars high above the city’s streets. Supermen in hard hats. It was unimaginable to Dottie— standing there gripped by her fear. How could men, with all the elegance of a bar stool after midnight, gracefully construct this vertical city?
LONELY TOWER
She inched forward, trying to distract herself with thoughts of the blowing trees below or a warm hand. She found herself reaching out into the empty space around her but nobody reached back. She was alone.
A night earlier Dottie couldn’t find a moment to herself. As she sat in the bar, she watched as
her colleagues suddenly became best friends once the bottles started to open. She slowly sipped her sidecar while others sloshed down glass after glass of whiskey. The music rose and filled the room. Bodies swirled around, dancing like buoys in a storm. Occasionally a drifting body, unstuck from the gravitational pull of the dance floor, would land a seat next to Dottie. Brief attempts at conversation were thrown her way, but she gently batted them off with a polite smile.
Her glass finally emptied, the bartender slid another sidecar her way. She glanced up, reaching
for her purse, but the bartender had already walked away. “It’s on me” she heard from over her shoulder. As she turned to politely reject the unassuming stranger, her elbow knocked the glass over, dousing the man’s trousers in cheap cognac and triple sec. Embarrassment scrolled down her face. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, let me grab a towel.” Dottie awkwardly grasped at the pile of napkins on the bar top. As she turned back, expecting to face a beat-red businessman with a damp lap, she was instead greeted by a bellowing chuckle.
He had warm, swollen cheeks that were curled up with jubilation. His blue eyes were barely
visible behind his rising smile—like two moons settling behind mountain peaks. The laughter was contagious. Dottie couldn’t help it as a giggle crept out. Marvin extended a hand. “Marvin. Nice to meet you.” Dottie reached out and shook it. “I’m Dorothy. Nice to meet you too. I’m sorry about the–”
"It’s nothing” Marvin crowed out. Dorothy smiled and reached uncomfortably for another napkin.
In all the commotion Dorothy hadn’t noticed that the bar had emptied. Except for a few stray
bodies swaying to the jukebox or the guy collapsed in a nest of peanut shells and spilled suds at the end of the bar, she and Marvin were alone. Suddenly aware of the time, Dottie reached for her purse. Marvin helped her slip into her coat and the two emerged from the quiet bar back into the howling city. The bright streetlights cast shadows in every direction. Their silhouettes’ stood still in the twinkling lights.
"Must be lonely," Marvin said. It caught Dottie off guard. She gazed down at her shoes, feeling the glare of his words like a street lamp, shining on her loneliness. "All alone in the middle of the city," Marvin lamented, as he looked up at the Empire State Building. “All the other skyscrapers are huddled downtown, but she stands up here by herself.” Dottie—embarrassed but relieved—realized he wasn’t talking about her. “Oh, yes. I guess.” She chimed in. Marvin stood there with his head tipped back in awe. Dottie stared at him as he stood, trapped in a trance, under the spell of the giant structure.
At that moment Dorothy felt whole. She felt seen. The shadow of the great building became a
spotlight, reflecting the true radiance Dorothy kept concealed. The two said their goodbyes and parted ways for the night. But Dorothy couldn’t sleep. She lay awake until the sun peered into her window over the downtown buildings. The next morning, she slipped into her wedges and walked out of her apartment. The Empire State Building greeted her in the distance. A telling smile crept across her lips as she walked uptown to meet Marvin at the top of the world.