A short burst of air through pursed lips. He scrunches his down
syndrome doughboy face from the mild stink of ammonia.
‘Whew!’
A pause. His short, kielbasa legs take the first steps to
his promised land.
‘Ach…’
He bends, looks like a too full garment bag, fat on fat. Steps,
contemplates a second, thinks better of it.
‘Ugh.’
Headphones askew and trending toward the back of his cue
ball head. Another step; more trending.
‘Humph…’
He looks up, eyes a brunette belle, accidentally licks his
toothpick lips with cow tongue, stumble steps.
‘Ah!’
On the home stretch. Last step with his socked, sandaled pig
feet.
‘Zzzuh…’
Yet another successful stair climb.
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