In case of emergency

Atop the side of this highly textured and unique New Orleans building exists a window. The window is impenetrable to light absorbing any particle of which may come near it. I live inside this window. It is dark as I navigate adult life in the modern south in one of its most romantic cities. High living costs, low wages, and a difficult to infiltrate fine art scene are my reality as I hear the laughter of tourists on the street below me. Neither the laughter or the street are for me. I merely serve the tables, and refill the beverages to pay to stay in my window. Lead poisons my water, and my landlord takes my dignity by leaving me in a home to which I'm bound by contract yet it is barely livable, with its leaking ceilings, gas leaks, lack of hot water, and no air conditioning as record highs are magnified in the city center. Real feels of 110 plus degrees farenheit are not uncommon. All this, and I seemingly have only one option for escape. The latter placed far below my window. Too far to comfortably reach. Why was it placed this way. It seems as cruel as life itself. Do I stay, or take my chances allowing myself to drop to the latter? That's the current state of life here in the Big Easy.