“Whoever takes partners with God has gone astray into far error.” [Qur'an 4:116]

I went up too far today. I was nervous about going that high. It’s not that I’m afraid of falling. I’m more scared of what’s up there, above everyone’s heads. They say it’s enlightening to elevate oneself. To almost touch the clouds. To almost touch what’s above the clouds. Tempting, but I know better. I know those things should not be touched. The dirt under humanity’s fingernails has no place scratching at the Lord’s doors. We were put here on the ground for a reason.

But still, I ascended.

At that altitude the irrelevant fabrications of man shrink away, leaving only the imposing divinity of the Tower superior to me in position. Every incident of hurt and suffering diffuses through it into the sturdy foundation. That lightning rod of this miserable district, absorbing every celestial misfortune towards itself until the ground around it burns without bearing a hint smoke.

It’s a flash point.

An edifice like that is built to handle nature’s bombardments. But only this one, filled with violators, liars, and butchers, has been reinforced by something greater than the carnal steel of this world. Wilshire Tower has been blessed. It’s the only explanation that justifies it standing through its wicked history. Nothing inferior should endanger itself by approaching that height.

This Ferris Wheel comes close.

My seat climbed higher and higher. The air was colder up here. Cold and inhuman. I could feel demons brush against my dark, fragile skin. I wanted to go down, but there was no stopping this rise. Going up and up, like it was my time already. With a slight charge building in the air, it was all too clear that this aberration could be struck down at any moment.

I’m not ready to go yet.

In a panic, I began to yell for help. Ten stories below, the mostly-empty lot listened dutifully, but gravity expressed no inclination to expedite my descent. At the apex of the machine’s torturous climb the motor stalled and the world froze. Above the earth but not quite able to reach heaven, would I be allowed to return to the carnal planet below me? No, going back was impossible at this point.

The ground was on fire.

With current passing above me and heat rising from beneath, my shouts became screams of terror. Stretching over the sweltering tents and dubious rides, my cries were returned by the wailing of echoes off the back walls of the distant library and theater. Below, surely the uniformed officer strolling to his car must have heard the desperate stereo. A man in his position ought to have come charging to the rescue. But no, he was gliding away in his car with somewhere else to be.

After all, why should He care? To Him, I was just another freak at the carnival.