My fingers rub across the paint peeling from the door. Twice I draw back sharply. On my second pass, I touch the number. Five. I run my fingers over it again. Ten more floors to climb.
The darkness is overwhelming. I cannot see my complimentary watch or the wedding band in front of my face. I can feel the space around me; the closeness of the walls and the steps protected by twisted metal rails climbing up. Darkness is closing in trying to choke me. Am I so full of myself that I am blind to everything else? Can one see darkness?
The darkness is overwhelming. I cannot see my complimentary watch or the wedding band in front of my face. I can feel the space around me; the closeness of the walls and the steps protected by twisted metal rails climbing up. Darkness is closing in trying to choke me. Am I so full of myself that I am blind to everything else? Can one see darkness?
