One hundred steps up, each after the other. Step, step, step. Once one hundred of a kind, each now has its own qualities. Some have grown taller, others shorter. Some (particularly the bottom five) display frayed tufts like a child’s bedhead. One (number forty-six, to be exact) has hidden a buffalo nickel under its right edge for longer than anyone could say. The middle platform, with its square dimensions and low-hanging chandelier, is a moment of triumph for some, a source of frustration for others, as they know more is to come. The next one hundred begins, step, step, step.
Sue Clayton
18/12/2020 05:38:37 am
I was out of breath just reading this, but I did enjoy the climb. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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