This is my tribute to the four flight of stairs which in the past three months have been giving a lot of care as I smoke my lungs out at random moments each day.
There is no peculiarity why I love that particular space. It's a pretty place for sitting. I have a perfect view of the gate's lower part that has these tiny vertical rectangular slots. Through the slots, I get to make out people's arms and feet as they take harsh or hushed walks in front of the gate. Nothing escapes my bespectacled eyes. Staring at people's feet and arms jagged by the rectangular slots is also an inspiration-driven activity that shoots up ideas into my brain. And these ideas are not simply empty philosophies that victimize fellow cigarette smokers; they are also ideas about taking care of turtles, figuring out forgotten passwords, story concepts and better lines of to-do's - personal or otherwise.
There's also a muted staring at the capiz windows fronting our house. I never see them opened and by sitting at the stairs, I am given an excuse to watch those windows discreetly.
So I do not only sit at those stairs to smoke. I sit there to observe life in its perennially overlooked details. It's empty most of the time and it's even considered worthless by my MLM's standards but it calms the mind.
Besides, the stairs are beautiful to look at.