Stairs, yes stairs, it’s as simple as that. Do you ever sit at some stairs and think? Why is that? What is it about stairs that makes you so sentimental?
Is it because they are a place of passage? Something that uniquely demarcates comings and goings, ups and downs.
There is inevitably some brick corner dappled in dust tinged by twilight. It beckons and you place yourself midway the stoop. In that peculiar decided fashion that seems to say – I’m gonna pause. I’m not going to tolerate any more ups and downs, any more mundane scurryings.
So you hang there in chronologic suspension. A grand balancing act with giddy implications. Implications that burst kaleidoscopic rays of subtle perceptions – that blast the febrile wall twixt meta and physic.
Stairs, yes stairs, it’s as simple as that.
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