The crackled paint flaked off as she lightly trailed her fingers along the top of the steps railing. Faded shades of green and beige drifting down. Like tarnished confetti landing on the edge of the steps with the appearance of sorrow as they found there resting place.
She took one slow step at the time. Each stair step groaning with the sound of tired wood and rusty nails.
What was unseen in the basements depths seemed to settle upon her cheeks and forehead and mingle into the fullness of her hair.
She stopped midway...as far as she ever allowed herself to go. The silence was heavy. All she could hear was her breathing. Each released breath lingered somewhere in front of her chest as if it wanted to stay with her and not drift into what was beyond.
The smell was just as she had remembered from previous times when she had stood at the borderline that she would never allow herself to cross.
It was a warm amber smell. In some ways comforting, some ways, familiar. But at the same time it seemed as if it was making the choice to move forward for her, as if it was pulling her in. There was a stirring of indecision. It made her feel like she wanted what the dark caverns of the basement had to offer but also feared it would be filled with deceit.
She slowly turned and ascended the stairs. Stepping out of the stairway and feeling the cold brass doorknob beneath her trembling fingers she secured the door behind her. She walked away and heavily carried with her that overwhelming feeling she had learned to live with for so many years. The feeling of wanting something but letting the fear of sadness or pain stop her from going just one step further.
