THERE ON THE STAIR

On the way out this morning using the front stairwell down I passed, after first smelling, dog shit. Two rough pitted lumps of brown stuff there on the stair top one of seven.
Credit where credit’s due, the pooh was against the wall not in the centre of the stair so no stepping over by me required.
On the way in this afternoon using the back stairwell after work a woman sat on the second bottom of seven step a few flights up.
She sat head in her hands a small bag between her and the wall.
Passing on the right of her I thought, ‘she fixing? No...
‘She crying? Can’t hear her crying...
‘Shall I ask her what’s up? No...’
Further up the stairwell I could smell her still.
‘She can hear me getting higher...
‘Will she guess how high I get?’