Perhaps, like me, you live in a house with two
staircases. Well good for you if you do because they’re
almost always the larger types of property, and so
living in one suggests you are probably fairly affluent.
Another reason it’s propitious to live in habitations
with two staircases is the opportunities they provide
for the occupants to surprise each other.
For example, one person might wander off in front
of another, and then appear suddenly behind them
like an apparition and cause them to shriek
and throw the laundry all over the wolfhound,
or throw the dachshund all over the secretary.
One other good reason to live in a house with
two staircases is that you can spend time lying
in bed of a morning wondering which might be
the shortest route to go down to the dining room
for the kippers, and perhaps you’ll measure
the two options by pacing them out in fairy steps,
or if you’re like me you might ask one of the interns
to do so on your behalf. But the best thing of all
is only to wait until people are out on errands or
holidays or visiting the neurologist, and then to run
round and round the house, up the backstairs,
across the landing with the faded fauteuil,
past the doors to the bedrooms, then down the front
stairs to the hallway, and through to the kitchen with
the half-plucked woodcock, and back up the backstairs,
across the landing with the faded fauteuil and the books
on the table, past the bedrooms, down the front stairs
to the hallway, and then through to the kitchen with
the half-plucked woodcock on the long pine table,
and back up the panelled backstairs,
across the landing with the faded fauteuil
and the books on the table and the Alcaraz rug,
past the doors to the bedrooms and down the front
stairs with the painting of the dragonfly and berries
to the hallway. And that’s where you’d find me
talking to the aerial photograph interpreter,
except that it’s me who’s running, just look
at me go, how marvellously happy I am!
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