Breaching the Shaft

Slipped through the popped fire exit door and stepped directly onto the cold concrete landing of the stairwell. Total blackout except for a strip of emergency green down the steps. A real descent demands testing before committing boots to vertical transit. Right by the painted metal riser of the top step, I uncovered an abandoned steel washer, wide as a saucer and pitted with light rust. Heavy, balanced ballast. Planted my boots on the rough concrete edge, gripped the rim in both fists, and gave it a smooth flick over the void. Listened in the dark: one solid, distant 'ting' three flights below, clean and clear. Descent path is uncompromised.