The minutes after

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... 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... 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... 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...