The door creaked open revealing an old spiral staircase. The
steps were covered with thinning carpet, worn by the tread of many feet. The
bare brick walls that surrounded the staircase were cracked and crumbling. The handrail
squeaked when I put my weight on it. I sighed.
It’d always been rundown, but it was never this bad. It was
like when I went home and saw my mom limping for the first time. It wasn’t much
of a limp, but it shattered the illusion that the things I’d taken for granted in
my life were as perpetual as they seemed.
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