Sensory Ethnography Description 2 - Walking Down Stairs

The Feel of old wool brushes across the soles of my feet through my socks as my feet begin to decend down into nothingness. My hand reaches to the side and begins to glide along the wooden rail, smooth to the touch. I begin to count each step as I walk down further, the darkness begining to take hold of my eyes. The cold chill from beneath becomes stronger as I decend, the feeling of warmth from upstairs leaving me. My toes curl in order to feel the edge of each step, my feet hesitating untill they feel solid ground.

Downstairs is where my room is and it get's rather cold, plus I don't really like using the lights at night (I'm just really weird) I noticed that my feet tend to feel their way arround the edges of each stair and I also count each of them aswell. This may have something to do about me falling down a whole flight on my first night in that house. Living in Christchurch all my live means you're usually void of stairs in the house