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up and down, up and down.
everytime they hit a step, it was if they'd known that step their entire live, but they never hit a step the same way twice. there was a method to the madness- a style to the chaos. it was ballet during wartime.
those kids ran up and down those steps like warrior poets.
as the day went on, so did they. we all became transfixed. we made small commentary and little wagers among ourselve. how long would it last? would anyon fall?
surely, someone would have to take a rest.
surely, someone would...