There lives a woman, an old woman who resides atop a pair of stairs. These stairs are neither magical, nor impressive; they are just a means to a world unknown to her, a foreign land. Everyday she drags her stiff metal chair across her linoleum flooring to the landing of the stairs. There, she softens the harsh metals blows with old linens, towels and the occasional pillow.
I've seen this woman rest there at all hours of the day. At dawn she sits welcoming the sun and at night she sits to hear the faint and distant merriment of a generation so far from her own they seem alien. I wonder who she is waiting for. Could it be a lover, a child, a dear old friend or simply just anyone willing to give her a listening ear? Her ear is not trained to hear the tongue of our land so I know her purpose is not to listen in on other's lives.
Her presence is eerie, and serene. It is almost as if she exists solely as a reminder, as a reminder that there is always someone, some one watching. She watches not for the purpose of amusement but almost with the intent to guard and protect. I call her the Lady of the Stairs. This Lady's presence put me at unease initially, now I find her presence reassuring. With so many things in this world changing so quickly it is assuring to know the Lady of the Stairs is always there; always watching, always waiting.
1 comment:
you're so poetic in your expression ali! wonder if you could say this lady is "fully functional" in society...
Billy Joel once spoke of an old woman he observed in Vienna sweeping the streets with a small broom. His father turned to him and said, "Well it gives her an occupation rather than to sit idle". It's so important for older ones to feel useful- perhaps this lady feels useful as neighborhood sentry.
Me I plan on being the granny who rides her bike round town poppin' wheelies ;)
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