The Fine Print

I could feel my leg muscles starting to strain halfway through the second flight of steep steps. Been in this building's walls for what seemed like forever now. I ate here, I slept here, had enough lasting memories here to officially start calling it my home away from home.

Yet the fact that the staircases were a mountain to climb somehow blew right by me till only just then. If anything, I just feel so sorry for my limbs… they were great little appendages, as reliable as they come, but they were also as human as human can be.

So, it sucks that despite doing absolutely nothing wrong, somehow they got paired with the mind of an absolute buffoon with no regard for self-preservation whatsoever.

You'd think after your knees gave out on you for like the fifth time midway up the fifth floor it'd be a telltale sign to immediately stop what you're doing cause you know for a fact that broken necks aren't really as interchangeable as kidneys were.