Baldwin

“Do you have it, Fred?”

“Got it.”

“And how about you, Lou?”

“Trust me. I've got it.”

“And Mel?”

Ed was head of the crew. They needed to take Mrs. Franzberg's piano up to the second floor. Ed repeated the question.

“Hey, you, Mel?”

“Piece ‘a cake, Ed.”

So now they were ready to lift the grand piano up the staircase.

“Okay… Here we go. One, two…”

“Wait a min…”

That was Mel.

“Three.”

Damn, Mel didn't have it again. There's always a weak link in piano transport. It was too bad, because it had been a very fine Baldwin.

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

Mammoth

An airplane soars into the mammoth building, leaving a gaping hole. Blackness, dust, and papers fill the air.

Angels fall and my heart beats quickly not knowing what to do. I pace the floor with the others, stunned, quiet, unable not to watch. The sirens pierce our ears, and we stare at one another.

The phones ring with panicking family members crying that a second plane has crashed into the other building. I drop the phone when the fire drill alarms. The sky darkens and we head to the staircase not knowing our fate.

The World Trade Center is no more.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Man On The Stair

It wanted my attention!

An icy breath of air hit me in the face, whispering something in my left ear.

I looked up at the staircase, narrow and active, only to see its black hair dangling over the banister, and its face blank.

I froze yet was intrigued.

Am I going mad?

I called out to it, "Who are you?"

Then it was gone.

I started to think it was the same thing that "pushed" the towels off the banister, even damp ones!

I called him "the towel man."

I am a "skeptic on the turn," although he’s long gone.

From Guest Contributor Tanya Fillbrook

Water Pitcher

The mustard-lustered staircase was slick with California rain. Loaded with bridal shower largesse, like some kind of Sierra-Sherpa goat, I lost my footing—and lost the water pitcher over the balustrade escarpment. The abysmal fracture at your feet flashed within your eyes; oh the silence, oh the rain. There must have been other gifts, but I remember this one only, and others: forgetting to set the alarm for the eclipse, going to the airport on the wrong day, and missing Sasha's graduation. The mind adheres to misadventure like a stubborn sticker on glass. Even the dishwasher of time can't dislodge.

From Guest Contributor David C. Miller

The Staircase

It was a Sisyphean task. Tom's only job was to clean the staircase leading down the side of the building. Never mind that he lived in Seattle. Or that they were located directly across from the Rodeo and Cattle Auction. Never mind that he never managed to reach one end of the 17-step flight of stairs before someone muddied them up again by walking past.

Never mind all that.

What really bothered Tom was that not once in his 30 years of employment had he ever been named Employee of the Month. It was enough to make a man give up.