Dread, is when I took step after endless step on the staircase of death.
No. ‘Death’ is too extreme - ‘staircase of scattered limbs and self-esteems.’
The summit wasn’t far now yet it wasn’t getting any closer.
My cousin Keya was behind me; her breath cooled
my sun-blistered calves and I looked back at her.
Her almond eyes and her thin lips came together
in that customary way that moved anyone to her command.
I turned back and took the steps two at a time, too quickly to think.

Was the sky really this blue?
When it isn’t crowded out by buildings, planes and industry
it could be mistaken for the smiling reflection of an unbroken ocean.
It was a strange feeling, to be so tall and no taller. I thought:
‘if I were to live here,
I’d forever be looking down at the rest of the world.’

Keya’s little head scans the ground at my feet before she joins me.
I grit my teeth and
ignore my knocking knees.
The clouds had stood still as if they had stopped to watch and right then, it was hard to see
how this moment could possibly end.

Braying, restless braying shook me out of my reverie.
The clamour of the fiendish contingent below us clashed violently
against each other. Some
were new challengers.
Others hoped to reclaim the dignities they had lost up here.

I raised my foot; ‘I am ready’.
A hand gently pushes the small of my back.
‘No’ I thought. ‘I’m not ready at all.’
My bony bottom bounces off the sides of the slide to cheers from below. Keya laughs, and follows.