The door of the small aircraft was open, the metal steps in place.

For the people climbing the metal steps into the train, those were magic words.

Melody sat on the cold metal steps and looked up at him, shaking her head.

At last the door crashed open and they could all see the top of some metal steps.

Increasing the pressure on my throat, he forced me out a back door and down a set of metal steps.

Beyond it was a set of metal steps, and they weren't moving.

"You couldn't get down those metal steps in a wheelchair."

He found himself faced with an apparently endless series of metal steps.

On each floor you could see up one level through the metal steps, but no farther.

We whispered together and he set off slowly back down the long flight of metal steps.