At the Top of the Stairs.

Travis Crawford, March 2000
I quietly make my way up to the top of the stairs, and walk toward the room. The elevator would have been faster, but I prefer walking. The lights in the room are off - there's probably nobody inside. I stick my head inside and look around. Then I slowly take a few steps inside. There's enough light from the hallway to let me see that sure enough, nobody's here.

I walk to the window. I look down to the dark streets below, colored the same dark orange as the streetlights. I see cars, windshields reflecting the glare of the streetlights, quietly sliding along the roads. Tiny people make their way along the sidewalks. It looks cold outside, but it's comfortable up here. I can't hear any sounds from out there - I'm rather far from the ground and the window blocks most of the sound. All I hear is the quiet hiss of the air vents in the ceiling.

There are a couple of guys walking along the sidewalk below, and one of them is carrying a plastic bag. I wonder what's inside. I wonder where they've come from, and where they're going. I wonder what they're talking about. The headlights on a car in the parking lot turn on. After several seconds, the car quietly reverses out of its spot, pauses a moment, then silently glides toward the exit. I notice as it pulls out of the lot that the driver didn't use his indicator. Perhaps he thought nobody was looking. The car continues down the road, turns at the intersection, and disappears out of sight.

What's everyone else up to? I wonder how interesting their personal stories would be. Maybe they're just ordinary people. Maybe they're quite successful. Or sad, or happy. Maybe they feel they're just trudging along doing their day-to-day activities.

I wonder what it would be like to trade places with one of them. How would things be different if I was someone else? It might be interesting, at least for a while. Would they make the same decisions I would make? Would I make the same choices that they would make? Would they choose a different path? Are people really all that different after all?

I wonder why nobody else ever comes up here. As far as I know, I'm the only one who ever comes up here to watch the world and think about things like this. Surely they reflect on things too? Maybe they're just too busy. Or maybe I'm the only one.

It's time to get going. I've spent enough time up here - it's time to go back down and join everyone else. Time to re-enter the real world. Time to hear sounds and see things from their perspective again.

Leaving my window on the world, I head back down the stairs....