the house on lexington avenue it’s easy to walk step follows step follows step follows step follows well, you get the idea one foot in front of the other one foot down after the other rise over run it becomes commonplace there are 17 steps in my staircase i take them daily over and over up and down bedrooms upstairs living quarters down it’s easy to walk step up step down sometimes i run creating speed when i feel the need to get there sooner faster seconds faster my feet know the rise over run the height, when to expect to land on the next stair it’s a solid experience stable unlikely to falter but i remember staircases, in houses, that were not i remember the house on lexington avenue crooked, falling down, creosote leaking i tripped and fell, burning my hand on the cast iron potbelly woodstove blisters searing into my skin, the shape of a seashell (my mother joked, trying to lighten the mood, that my palm would read of water, the ocean) we lived there for a few years and i never went into the basement the stairs were rickety, frightening i was unsure that they could bear my weight unsure that all the steps were accounted for i was certain that i would come upon the missing stair and fall and fall and fall fall until i hit bottom broken, hurt, unable to climb again unable to call for help as i lay on the damp, dirt floor my mother says that this house was not meant to be lived in any longer (the rent was very reasonable) it was secluded, her partner had a giant garden down the path in summer we practically lived on zucchini and bread alone but i swore, she swore, the place was haunted maybe someone else fell, so long ago, missing that stair to the basement perhaps she fell, alone one day, a delicate ankle twisting as she ventured to the cellar all her weight catapulting her head over heels until she landed neck at an obscene angle, her screams silenced i believed in ghosts then i believe i saw her and she haunted my dreams my yells bringing my mother up the stairs safely stepping rise over run she saw wisps as she came into my room the moon creating rainbows splashing across me a friendly ghost i believed we moved on, leaving her behind to the house that scared me leaving her to fend for herself or move on to better places a quarter century later i have no cellar stairs to frighten me, to worry me the house is ours, the stairs solid and whole the house on lexington avenue is no longer it was condemned as we moved out taken down and rebuilt upon i hope she found safety and calm
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You can hear and see me read it at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ghpYo18or80&feature=youtu.be
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