The Man of Faith
The bloody lift is always malfunctioning. He kicked the steel frame with a vulgar slang. He was a man of faith. Decent and always looking at life from a positive perspective. His head ached while he was climbing the stairs. His world was upside down. It was a filthy old building. The placed smelled of rust, and the air was dense. The stairs were like a snake coiled up after digesting its prey. The bulb flickered every once a while in its efforts to keep the darkness of the night away. The stairs were littered with used cans and cigarette bud. There were a few traces of the grill along the staircase that used to exist sometime. The walls were dark as a single bulb was making a feeble attempt to keep the stairway alight. The walls must-have been painted white when the building was built, but now the colour has faded with traces of dampness all around. The pale yellow colour shines in the light and displays its art of pathetic graffiti and useless adverts that are placed around the w