Only a few people can see it, but if you look hard enough you most certainly will spot the stairway.
It rises from the roots of an ancient tree, runs around its trunk, and disappears from view around the corner. The only way to tell where it leads to is to traverse it.
If you were to ask the townspeople about it, they would unanimously tell you that it leads to a secret place. But each one has a different definition for his or her secret place.
For one, it is a haven from the mundane dreariness of the real world.
For another, it is a place where fairytales come true.
Yet another believes it is a place where they can safely hide from their demons, while a fourth would consider it a safe spot to indulge in their deepest, darkest fantasies without any fear of retribution.
I think that all these people who sit under the stars and contemplate the secret place, make up these stories and ideas in their wandering minds, often with little clue as to what they are talking about.
For, the ones who have gone and truly explored the stairway have not yet returned from their secret place or wherever the stairs led them to.
But those were the brave souls, the ones that ventured, I can now say.
I have lost count of how many steps I have climbed so far. I can neither remember the beginning, nor see how and where my journey will end.
But this much I know. The townspeople think the first step is always the hardest. But that is far from the truth.
The first step is perhaps among the easiest. It is harder to keep going when you fear you are lost.