You don’t expect to see a home built like that. Not in the middle of an ordinary neighborhood where everything else stays low to the ground. The tower rises above the surrounding houses like something left behind from another era. Dark wooden beams crisscross beneath it, lifting the entire structure high above the street while palm trees sway far below its windows. At first glance, it barely even looks residential.
More like an old watchtower. Or some abandoned industrial structure nobody ever bothered taking down. And then you notice something strange. It’s maintained. The wood looks treated. The railings are clean. Even the windows catch the sunlight without a layer of dust softening them. Someone clearly takes care of this place. That’s the part that makes people stop. Because houses usually come with context. Driveways. Front lawns. Neighbors at eye level.
This one has none of that. It stands above everything around it, separated from the streets below in a way that feels almost intentional. We stood near the base longer than we meant to, trying to understand why someone would choose to live sixty feet in the air. And that’s when the owner stepped outside.