Between two bells, in a building with two floors

The Stairs That Keep Going

Rubber treads with the yellow safety nosing. Painted steel rail. Block wall that was cool against your arm in June. You know this stairwell the way you know a song you never chose to learn. Two floors, one landing between them. That is the entire building. So you go up, and there is a landing, and above that another flight, and above that a rail you can see the underside of, and light coming down from higher than the roof of a two-story school. Nothing is chasing you. The lights are the ordinary lights. Every landing has the same door on it, with the same cart mark by the handle — not a similar door, the same door, the same dent. You will not notice the impossible part until later, and it is not the stairs. It is that you are not tired. You have climbed six flights in a building with one, and your legs are fine, and your breathing is fine, and at no point did it occur to you to stop and count.

Reality Is Optimal · created by Julian Cape, 2026