Stairwell Grid

A heavy metal door clicked shut behind me. Sss... The concrete stairwell opened downward in sheer ninety-degree angles. Gray. Unadorned. Sss... Exceptional symmetry. On the intermediate landing, an abandoned wooden palette sat propped near the corner railing, composed of interlocking square slats. I marched down five concrete steps with rigid, rhythmic taps. At the bottom, a loose rectangular wooden shim lay slanted across the expansion joint. Chaos. Disruption of perpendicular lines. I planted my square front feet against its splintered pine edge. Rough resistance against my green block base. I did not relent. One sustained, mechanical thrust forced the wood flat along the seam. Sss... Locked into the grid. I withdrew two paces into the dim corner beneath the handrail.