I was approaching a newly constructed home. The base floor level was not nailed down and when I stepped on it the whole level almost slipped off of the house. I managed to slide it back in place. From then on the flooring was secure yet the house became less and less completed. I climbed and climbed, the steps getting more narrow and no drywall on the walls. Making it even more difficult to climb. When I reached the upper echelons there were no steps and I was hanging on to the framing itself precipitously inching my way along. I looked out at the view. We were clearly an at an insane altitude, towering over the vast  city and even mountains. I am absolutely terrified and shaking. I slip but catch myself by my fingertips. I’m back into place, hanging on for dear life. There is a worker up here, unharnessed, devotionally constructing the tower with no fear. I say, I don’t know how you do it. He seems happy to do it. I even feel he does it out of love. I leave the deathly heights, make it back down through the house, and exit safely.