It was recommended
as a place to go alone…

an iron staircase…
spirals downwards
into the gloom.
                                                      
At the lowest step, I pause…

…echoes of my footsteps
…fading…

then nothing
but the silent treads
that brought me down

…and my heavy heart-beat.

I might have expected this…
I have arrived at the basement,
and there is no-one here…

Where is the artist,
dressed in black?

This is his gallery
but the walls are blank
… there are no pictures…
everything has gone

…except for the familiar armchair.

I can do nothing
but slump down into it …