Rainy Night in the City

The rancher kept one hand on the concrete and the other on the metal pole. He tried his best to focus only on breathing like he’d been taught many years and many panic attacks ago. His head swam along with the steak in his stomach.
He resented that he might not be able to keep his meal down. He knew he would appear weak. But then he realized he must already appear weak, shivering and shaking in the cold rain beneath the thin parka he had purchased back on earth. He braved a look up at her and immediately regretted it. She was staring back at him. Her upper torso contrasted against the oppressive neon sign.
And then she was gone.
He yelped and jolted up like an Olympic sprinter at the gunshot, the fear all but forgotten as he ran across the vast space. His oxfords lost traction in the rain and then he was stumbling forward and then he was falling and he extended out an arm and landed on it funny and then he was crawling and finally, he was at the edge. With one eye shut he peered out. He expected to see her corpse from 46 floors away. Instead, a stupid little girl with stupid curry hair and stupid massive eyes was laughing at him from uncertain scaffolding. Her backdrop, a massive neon red sign displayed for all of Manhattan skewed and twisted her features in cruel homage to satan. The boy opened another eye and peered out on New York City from between the red letters. And then he lost his stomach contents. The awful demon girl was now pointing at him and laughing and laughing and laughing until her stomach also hurt and then she was doubled over, wheezing and pointing. In three days they were to be married.