The Mossy Stairs - Part 1
As I was climbing up the moss-covered stairs in front of what I now lovingly called home, rain sprinkling down from above, I was just one step from the top when, suddenly, the footing beneath my feet gave way. My vision quickly turned from the golden door handle that was once so close to the grasp, to the cast iron railing at the top of the stairs. My hand desperately hoping to grab onto anything before falling all the way back down to the bottom.
The height at the top of the stairs was higher than the average man and the chance of doing great bodily harm, was nothing less than a certainty. I had climbed those same stairs daily for many years past; ever since I could remember. It was the memory of my first trip up the stairs that came flashing through my mind at that moment. I was only three-years-old when my mother held my hand every step we took all the way up saying, ‘always remember to hold onto the rail when you climb these steps and never, ever, let go until you know you are safely at the top’.
You see, I had been in a frantic hurry earlier and wanted nothing more than to get to my safe, and dry, home after a long day of walking throughout the wet city running errands and chasing down dreams. My mind was preoccupied with several tasks yet remaining, along with the repeated rehearsing of some haphazardly completed tasks that could have been done much differently. I was busy plotting and thinking of how I might avoid a great many of those problems if I had just made better choices.
Unlike nearly every other time I had turned the corner to carefully make that familiar trek up those moss-covered stairs, this time, the rain, exhaustion, and preoccupation with other things, had made caution the least of my considerations. I had forgotten what Mother had been so studious about warning me of; to hold the rail until I was safely at the top…
No comments posted.