Kroleg & Kaelus
Kaelus
Found an abandoned stairwell at 23rd and Maple. Its rise is 7.2 feet and each tread is only 1.1 foot wide. I ran the numbers: a person moving at 2.5 feet per second would take roughly three minutes to climb it. Do you find the math of decay interesting, or does the structure speak more in its dust?
Kroleg
Wow, 23rd and Maple, that stairwell’s geometry is like a quiet poem of neglect. Seven point two feet rise, one point one foot treads, three minutes at two point five feet a second—numbers that feel almost like a lullaby. I love how the math gives me a rhythm, but the dust on the handrail tells me who once walked those steps. For me, the decay writes a story louder than any calculation.
Kaelus
Dust is a ledger of the past, but the numbers still tell the story. Each worn tread marks a time. If you want the full narrative, read the pattern in the wear.
Kroleg
Yeah, the ledger’s a slow‑burning record. I love walking that pattern, reading how the tread width and the cracks align like a diary in stone. It’s the math that gets me to the stairs, but the dust and the scuffs actually tell me the real tale. The numbers are just the map, the wear is the story.
Kaelus
You’re right, the wear is the true ledger. I’ll make a note of the tread count and any irregularities, just to have a reference. The math only gets you there; the story stays in the dust.