10 stories above ground level, 20 flights of stairs, and a total of 300 steps, although one would prefere a 15 second elevator ride. 4 doors down and to the left; room #178. A light knock, a peering through the eye hole, rattling of the locks, and an apprehensive opening of a door. An anemic shaking of hands with a smile practiced in the mirror followed by struggled words of invitation. A seat taken in a living room less alive than it's occupant. A hesitant offer of tea, freshly brewed last week. A gathering of dust on the windowsills held shut by nails and prayers. A nervous shuffle of feet across broken lines of salt. Two familiar faces and a sigh of acceptance. "I've been expecting you." "I've been waiting all of your life." "I wasn't ready." "But here we are." "What happens next?" A clock that should be ticking. A silence begging to be broken. A debt to be collected but a price too high to pay. "Now we must go." "But the room, who will take my place?" "Another, like yourself. Waiting for me." "I left it a mess." "It's time to leave."

10 stories above ground level, 20 flights of stairs, and a total of 300 steps, although one would prefere to live a life with no regrets.