Sky diving off the O2

I had slipped and if it weren't for free motion flyer ball I managed to clutch for dear life, would have plummeted 50 odd floors, but looking out across the peachy-orange sky, I saw it and all my attention was immediately absorbed, "What IS that?

Alternate Universe Neo-Tokyo, lol. Dream time. Sky Tree was not completed yet, but that's because it wasn't Sky Tree, it was "O2," and it was going to reach into outer space. Or it was supposed to. It was clawing its way. Maybe the project got halted, or maybe they were just going to start letting people sky dive off it on the weekends, but we were going to do the jump (with a guide). It was for work, of course. Someone had to blog about it, though why it had to be me in particular I couldn't fathom.

The tower was by the beach and my friend abandoned her ski cap in the sand, saying it was dirty anyways. I was anxiously watch the sun go down as we walked over (we were going to jump at night?!) but then couldn't even do that because a dark cloud (so evil it had taken on a semi-solid form and was dripping actual filth) moved in to blot out nearly the entire sky. A slim horizon of hellfire marked the ocean.

Heading up, there seemed to be some sort of gorilla infestation, the outer walls just crawling with them, but no one working in the office seemed to mind. Our guide arrived looking like he had just descended a mountain: the backpack, the shoes, tights of a subdued magenta with some busy patterns in black and tan under his sporty black shorts, windbreaker mostly turquoise. Walking with quick steps, he seemed to think I, in particular, would never be fast enough to follow him. We were to turn off the hall lights behind us as we went. Setsuden? I woke up mulling whether I was prepared to die as we were boarding yet another elevator.