Scaling Down the Iron

I grabbed the chipped iron rung of the fire escape drop-ladder and swung down, testing how much weight it could take. A bright smear of weathered sticker vinyl caught my attention against the mortar of the red brick wall—someone had layered peeling teal paper right next to a black stencil tag. I balanced on the metal hinge, reaching over to run my fingertips across the rough dried spray paint. Below, the quiet morning alley was just starting to stir with delivery carts, but up here between the iron grating and vibrant wall scraps, the whole city felt like a fresh canvas waiting to be climbed.