Sunday May 5th, 2013

The exercise:

Write about: the staircase.

With a third straight loss, the Canucks are pretty much over and out for this year's playoffs. Yes, they could still win the next four games in a row in order to advance to the next round... but that's feeling extremely unlikely at this point.

So, more of the usual from them, basically.


Dusty, creaking stairs disappearing down into smothering darkness. You may descend, but know that there is no coming back. If you go, everything that came before those steps will cease to exist.

There are benefits of making that choice, of course. A price so dear must be balanced, or else none would pay it. The question each of us must answer is whether the rewards outweigh the sacrifice... though with so many factors on the other side so poorly defined, that is a very difficult calculation to solve.

For some of us, at least. Those of us with caution and wisdom on our side.

But then, life would be far less interesting without fools such as yourselves hanging about...


Greg said...

I want to say don't give up hope yet, but there's certainly only a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel for the Canucks. Still, they may surprise you with an astonishing, edge-of-the-seat comeback!
That's an interesting staircase you have there, with a lot of indecisive fools on it :) I wonder where it leads, and if any of the fools ever come back?

The staircase
The ghosts like to gather on the staircase, probably because it's a link between two places, a transition zone. It probably feels like home to them. They jostle each other gently, and I think there's a pecking order for the step that each is on.
Marilynne hates them; she shudders and pulls her shoulders in and makes herself as thin as possible when she has to go upstairs. They part for her to get past, but she's still terrified of touching them. I watch her go, and then add more laxatives to her tea.
Josh, our dog, likes trying to herd them. They seem slightly scared of him, and he runs up and down the stairs, disrupting their order and forcing them into little groups. Then he lies at the bottom, panting happily, while they sort themselves out again.
And me? I just keep adding to their number.

Marc said...

Greg - eh, looks like my hopes were best saved for other, more worthwhile things after all.

Yeah, I've been wondering where they go as well. I'll let you know if I come up with a decent answer :)

Yours is friggin' fantastic, by the way. Great, great work here. Cannot pick a favorite line or even paragraph.