My title sounds like an Edward Gorey book. I adore Edward Gorey’s books.
These are the wrong stairs. Don’t go down them.
The stairs are on North Beach. The cliffs are sand and clay. Sections collapse.
People have stopped building stairs down to the beach for the most part. They don’t last.
I longed for a house on the bluff or the beach. But I don’t anymore. I think about collapse. When we have an earthquake, sections of the bluff will collapse. I walk the beach anyhow. I don’t feel protected, I don’t feel safe, I don’t feel lucky. I feel…. mortal.
I keep thinking of Alice and rabbit holes and modern rabbits with this picture. Not down the rabbit hole but up the rabbit stairs. This rabbit is at home at the top of the stairs and waiting. What would today’s version of Alice look like?
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