I don’t remember why the cellar was dangerous,
but the top level of the shed was 3/4 rafters,
and the attic was half gaping holes,
always in places you couldn’t predict.

You can only live on the edge
of a risk when forced to play it safe,
so we’d scale these dungeon stairs like a
ritual, to simply stand still by the

walls, just on principle, scared of
disobedience but somehow more afraid
that if we actually broke for the woods instead,
there’d be no wolves anyways.

first published in the engine(idling