Stories from the Stairwell

Stories from the stairwell should not be a title, but it is. The stairwell should be free of oddities and exhibition. Should only be used for stepping. But a strange thing happened to me the other day.

I was walking down the stairs in my apartment building as I’m apt to do. No sense waiting for an elevator when you can get some easy steps in. Going up the steps is another story not related to this one.

I make the first turn on the stair case when I notice a man standing there facing me. Standing. Not stepping. Arms on his hips.

Then I notice a women knelt down facing him. Mouth full.

Both sets of eyes turned to me as I turned my eyes away. She was not kneeling in spiritual worship I can tell you that for sure, but I suppose she was laying hands of a sort. I think you glean what was happening.

Couldn’t decide if I should move on or get popcorn. I moved on, because I hate coming in late to a show.

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