Thursday, September 3, 2015



We were fleeing back down
The hall to the old stairwell
Which hadn’t been maintained.
We had no choice, darkness was
Coming and there were no lights
Working In the building. “You 
Okay,” I called over my shoulder?

She groaned in response.  I took
Her hand and hurried on a bit more
Slowly.  “They can’t have blocked
Every way,” I gasped.  “They haven’t
The men.”  “How do you know they
Are men,” she said sharply?  “Listen”
I said, stopping, looking back down

The hallway.  “What?”  “I thought
“I heard feet running.”  “Might
Be the old place creaking.
Might be rain.  Might be your
Poor sense of hearing.  “Might be,”
I agreed no longer hearing the
Sound.  We found the stairwell;

I opened the door to the
Screaming sound of rusted hinges.
“Hey,” I heard behind.  We
Hurried down.  “Hold up,”
I said stopping after a few floors
Holding the rail.  She bumped
Against me grabbing my shoulder.

Some of the steps crumbled;
We kept to the side nearest
The wall and inched down
In the disappearing light.  After a
Bit we heard the door we’d used
Creak open and the sound of
Men rushing after us running

Headlong.  Someone screamed as
A stair-step gave way.  We reached
The ground floor. I slammed against
The door again and again until it
Gave.  The night became alive
With stars and a moon lighting
Our way back to our Jeep.   The rain

Washed our windows clean.  Whatever
Was coming had not reached us quite yet
I backed out, turned in a tight circle
And gingerly traversed the pot holes
And gutters filled with rain.  There
Was something coming, but we
Would run as long as we could.

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