UP STAIRS DOWN
They wind up the hill. Each one twisted on the axis of the one that came before.
At the top of those stairs is a picnic. A proper feast. There is meat, and vegetables, and fruit, and a dozen different cheeses. There are pastries too, sweet delicacies for afterwards.
Before you can enjoy those treats though, you must climb the stairs - that winding escalation that taunts you so.
And therein lies the hurdle.
All of that greatness just out of reach. You've never felt so hungry, never wanted something so much, but it remains elusive.
Such an extravagant feast laid out, and no one to indulge. It hardly seems fair.
The feast up there, and you down here, trapped by circumstance.
You didn't choose this, although it was your choices that got you here. One misguided leap landed you in this place.
You nudge your wheelchair forward and contemplate those steps, but you know this is it.
There will be no feast for you today. All you can do is hope someone brings something down for you. A plate of this with a side of that.
Of course at this point, you're used to it. Ever since the accident, they have left you like this - cast aside like a secret best forgotten.
You will get your moment though. All in due time. They have no idea what's in store.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
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