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Slinky Stairs

She climbed the spiral staircase, carefully as if it was circling, remembering the slinky she'd played with as a child, wondering if Amy Dudley had any thoughts as she tumbled down the staircase to her death, feeling the cool coiled metal slinky between her hands like a wayward accordian, imagining her marriage as a slinky, gyrating from one hand to another in a caterpillar crawl then suddenly jangly, losing the rhythm, tangling down to the ground, unable to be untangled, though she preferred the image of the slinky when it hit the ground crawling down stairs of its own volition until it stopped.

Story by:

Laurel Kahaner

submitted at 2:50am

4 October 2010

Laurel Kahaner's web: