“Let’s take the stairs!”
As soon as I said that, you groaned, lazy you are, my love. It is only four floors, and you really do not have to come along. I open the door, and begin to run up.
It’s the silk polka-dot skirt, the dark brown one with the large pink and grey polka-dots. I thought it looked silly, but you encouraged me to wear it, and the heels and stockings, too. You are so predictable.
I am working, and have an appointment upstairs. I don’t know why you came along today, perhaps nothing better to do for some people who have more flexible schedules, I suppose. But yes, this is the first floor now, and you are still right behind me, closer now. Yes, closer.
Second floor, voices as the door there opens. It is the cafeteria, after all, and a few people still take the stairs, yes. Third floor, I knew. Yes, I knew you would move even closer, let yourself let the silk fall on you softly as I continue to climb, as I feel your warm breath behind me, on my leg, as I know now that it will be difficult to pay attention if the appointment is too short or too long.
Too big, too small, no, just right. Yes, just right we have to make it. Not too cold, not too hot.