Stairs

The window in that
awkward space reflects
the stairs at night.
If you stand in the
right place it doesn't
reflect you,
just the stairs.
Up, up, up, up,
up,...
until they end.

They look like from a
horror movie;
you can almost hear the audience screaming,
"DON'T GO UP THE STAIRS!"
Hear them groan in
frustration as you
turn your back on the window,
on them,
and make your way
deliberately up the stairs
having decided facing your
fate is much better than
the anticipation --
mystery -- of what's waiting for you.

Waiting for the sound of your
last weary footfall on that
connecting passage between
down and up
up and down
before reaching out from the
shadows and grasping at your
delicate neck.
Forcing you onto the
floor where you look up and
see the startled
face of the audience

and you look
down at that window,
and you see the
stairs reflected,
and you think you look rather
absurd just lying on the
floor at the
top of the stairs,
staring out a
dark window at
one in the morning.