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Miracle On A Stairwell
For the third time that day, Adam found himself falling down the flight of stairs in front of his apartment. It was a familiar feeling, thirty-seven steps to the face, chest, stomach, and legs, the force of the impacts nearly jarring the fillings out of his teeth. As he rolled past the fourteenth stair, he cursed. At the twenty-third, he found himself pondering life, and just how funny it all is. By the twenty-ninth, he was cursing again, this time more loudly than the first, causing the onlookers at the top and bottom of the stair case to blush at the colorful use of language.
With only five stairs till the bottom, Adam was feeling a little depressed, wondering if the pain would ever end. Adam's head smacked against the second-to-last stair, causing his lower half to flip over him in a sort of reverse somersault before resting on the floor. His head still resting on the second-to-last step, eyes gazing at the ceiling through the space between his ankles, Adam realized how greatly this was going to hurt the next morning. Slowly, he untwisted himself and sprawled out into a more comfortable position.
Adam did a quick check to make sure nothing was broken. First, he flexed his legs, which were a bit sore, but otherwise fine. Next came the arms and hands, which were in decent condition as well. Running one of his hands through his now disheveled hair, he felt a small bump on his scalp, but to his relief, Adam could find no blood after closer inspection. Adam stood up and brushed himself off.
The onlookers, still onlooking, began to disperse, the fun now over and sadly anti-climactic. Adam began to climb the stairs back up to his apartment, very carefully stepping just one foot at a time to ensure maximum balance. He noticed a peculiar squeak at the twenty-first step, one which hadn't been there before the fall. He smiled upon discovering this, satisfied that he had at least done a little damage back. Now, when friends asked about his bruised appearance, he could say “You should see the other guy!” with some truth to the claim. The smile went away at the top of the stairs when he almost slipped, but despite the near miss, Adam was able to get back to his apartment and pop a few pain pills.
Adam knew he was lucky for not being more seriously injured. He had terrible insurance. Falling down the stairs would be considered a “Gravitationally Assisted Injury”, and therefore not covered, as the company firmly believed that such injuries were easily avoided in this day and age thanks to the marvel of the wet floor sign.
Needless to say, no one took into account people like Adam, who had waged a private war against gravity since early childhood. In Adam's mind, gravity was a snobby know-it-all who put just a little too much faith in their precious “Laws of Physics”. That the Laws had so far won every major encounter with Adam was no deterrent, and he swore that one day he would track down that know-it-all and give him a stern talking-to. Adam would have no part in such an unimaginative reality. He wanted to fly.