In a building here in the neighborhood there’s a staircase where the steps become shorter and shorter, but only when you’re moving up the stairs. When you’re walking down, it’s just the opposite: then the steps become steeper and steeper, and when you get all the way down to the cellar, the step at the bottom is an almost nine-foot drop. At this point you have to crawl to the edge and hang by your arms. Just as you position yourself, the light in the staircase goes out, of course. There you hang in the cellar in the darkness, and even though you know it’s not much farther to the floor, most will hesitate a moment—before letting go.