A Smile in the Stairwell

    The day had been relatively quiet in the center of the country, but at 10:13 PM, as I was ladling out some soup for supper, the sirens started their own late evening “lullaby”. I quickly checked that the gas was off, covered the pot, and dashed for the stairs.

     Most of my neighbors suffice with entering the stairwell, and going down a floor or two. I often go down to the underground shelter. However, the last bit of stairwell before the shelter is near the glass entrance, and thus a very dangerous place to stand. As I entered that area, I saw an older man slowly going down the shelter stairs, and there was a woman waiting to go in behind him.

     At this point, time was running out, so I yelled at the lady “You’re near the glass! Come up a floor in the stairwell, away from the glass!”.  Simultaneously I did an about turn and ran back up a half floor, away from the entrance-way.

     The lady , who I didn't know, followed me. I turned and gave her a smile. “You were passing by on the street?” I queried. She answered, “Yes, I was passing by in my car, and stopped when the siren sounded.” She then pointed to her not-so-modest clothing and blushing,  added  “I guess you guessed from my manner of dress.”

    “Actually I assumed that because you’re not one of my neighbors.” Her reaction of visible relief was palpable. I hadn't even noticed her dress (which wasn't all that bad) until she had pointed it out.

       After  we heard the two missiles being neutralized by the iron dome, we waited a few moments, and I started going upstairs. “You should wait a few more moments before going out to the street”, I warned her. “Debris could still fall…… but you’re welcome to come up for a cup of water… or even coffee.”

    “Thanks, but I’m fine.” She replied, flashing me a smile in the stairwell.