As a kid, I was fascinated by my grandmother’s house. I liked to poke around in the basement where my grandfather had a workshop. In the far corner of the basement there was a steel plate on the floor that covered a hole about three feet wide on each side. A few times I had seen my grandfather move that plate. It provided access to a sewer trap. After he put the plate back, I could stand on it without worrying about falling into that hole, or worrying about anything coming out of that hole.
* * * * *
Somewhere in this anecdote about a steel plate and a sewer trap is a story about our current condition. It seems that the steel plate has been moved and someone forgot to put it back.