The Steps

The day came when I realised that those stairs weren't going to paint themselves. Or rub themselves down, or fill their own little holes left by the removal of the gripper rods. I was going to have to strap on the knee pads and set about it.
And when I'd finished the first round I clinked my way up Wardie Steps to Goldenacre, and then clinked my way up the daughter's stairwell to her flat.
I didn't clink on the way back though; more of a gurgle.

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