A GRIM trophy sits beside my keyboard. It's a solemn reminder of the fine line we may walk in life: the line that defines good and bad, ability and disability, even life and death.
It's what is left of one of the screws that held up the stairs to my front door – the rusted screws, each with only a millimetre or so of metal entrusted with the safety of those who climbed an apparently safe pathway.
The stairs would have collapsed if the fault had gone undetected. The disaster may have been only minutes away.
The victims would have been my family and friends, or an innocent stranger, maybe one or two, but possibly more – maimed or killed in a mangled, bloody mess.My discovery is a warning to householders everywhere to check the security of their buildings, particularly on the high points of older houses. See my earlier post for more.
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