Perspective is a funny thing.

Today I visited my childhood town. I revisited time,place and memory. I passed the old hairdressing school that was on my go straight to school and come straight home route.

The staircase brick-red different from every perspective. It’s shape from the sidewalk a triangle.  from the top it’s view a kind of pyramid.

At 7am,the hair school was closed. My  school open. I walk in my jumper plaid maroon. When no one was looking I detoured from my familiar sidewalk cracked.

I climbed up the staircase red-brick steps  8, remained on the landing for a moment looked all around, then  descended on the other side of staircase red-brick steps 8.

From others perspective it was for no seemingly outward reason,

At 3pm, a sea of plaid maroon spills out the double doors, blood-like, the dismissal bell signals me that is time to return home.

I do everything in reverse ,I climb up the staircase brick red steps times 8.

I stand on the landing plaid maroon style, ignoring goosebumps that don’t end at  Bobby socks

A place to land between worlds before descending staircase brick red steps 8 .

then  descend on the other side of staircase red-brick steps 8

At 7am , I leave deaf world for  hearing.

At 3pm, I leave hearing world for deaf.

between stairs that go up and down and entrances 2

that landing was my place just for a second