Stair Songs

Lately I’ve been making odd noises when I walk up the stairs like I am hauling a large sack of coal to the railroad car that runs to the mine’s elevator, like I should wipe the coal dust from my face with a rusty old bandana and then lean against the rocky walls of the mine wondering if the sun has set up above or is it still light enough to see my way to the kitchen, it’s not that I’m tired or incapacitated in any way, I have just become very vocal as if every exertion needs a grunting commentary for effect, to impress myself with how remarkably able I am despite my advancing age perhaps or call out imaginary admirers, people who will say, it’s true, you are a stunning example of an old woman, you are right to be proud, and to announce your progress up the stairs with a trumpet or full orchestration, as you wish.

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Photo by Fengyou Wan on Unsplash