By a Thin Thread

It’s мучительно—listening to his nightmares every night and not knowing how to help. But can I even help with anything? I came up to the balcony railings separating our halves, and pulled. It wobbled a little, but my weight would hold.

— Don’t look down, — I murmured, feeling my palms get wet.

Gripping the metal bar above my head firmly, I placed my bare foot on the rung and, shutting my eyes, climbed over to the neighbor’s side.