Thirty years a man is going up every day - eight landings, eight steps between the landings. He is hearing a wooden lid, creaking of a wooden lid. He has already started to get out of breath. Very often something grabs his throat and squeezes it. It is a fear of the time.It must be fear, as there's nothing else it could be...
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Thirty years a man is going up every day - eight landings, eight steps between the landings. He is hearing a wooden lid, creaking of a wooden lid. He has already started to get out of breath. Very often something grabs his throat and squeezes it. It is a fear of the time.It must be fear, as there's nothing else it could be...
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