People are coming down the stairs from higher floors. I am glad that other groups have decided to leave also, especially since I have not yet heard a building-wide announcement to do so. I walk down a flight of stairs, make a U-turn on a small landing area, and then walk down another flight to the next landing. On every second landing, there is a door marked with the floor number: 67…, 66…, 65 …; I feel a sense of relief now that we are on our way out. As I continue walking down the stairs, it occurs to me that I now have a wireless telephone. I try to call 911 but the line is busy. They must know about the plane crash by now. More people merge into the stairwell from other floors but it is not overly crowded so we are moving quickly.
I notice a partially finished cup of coffee in the corner of one of the landing areas. I wish I had my coffee – I forgot to bring it. When we come back, I will re-heat it in the microwave. I keep walking. There is another cup of coffee on another landing. It reminds me of a story about some people who had to evacuate their village, on foot. They tried to bring various possessions with them at first; but later, as they grew tired, they would leave things by the roadside. When they could no longer carry everything, they had to decide what was truly important to them and leave what was not. As the people became weaker and as their journey for survival continued, they would abandon things of greater value. In desperation, the storyteller had to abandon even what was most precious! Now, as I think about that story, I realize how unimportant my coffee is. I keep walking. Some high heeled shoes have been left in landing areas also. I wore comfortable shoes today, as usual; my feet are okay so far.
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