The Staircase Moving Two Ways

The linoleum floor of the old school smells of disinfectant and chalk dust. Bright orange tiles cover the hall. I see the child's drawing taped to the bulletin board: a yellow house with three square windows. A girl stands near the drawing, her braid loose. The staircase in the corner moves. It goes up and down at once, a constant, slow vibration. The weight of the steps is on my chest. I reach out a hand. The girl looks at my hand with the half-recognition of an old neighbour. I find a book left on a nearby desk. It is bound in faded blue fabric. I trace the illustration of a kitchen sink in the drawing. The kitchen sink in the book is slightly rusted.