Strand by strand I watched the rope hanging me begin to fray, unravel and slowly begin to break free from itself. The real question remained, would these fibers let go fast enough before the rough roped noose they threw around my neck and over the tree finally choked the life from me.
Hours ago I rode down from the hills and a small gold claim that I had purchased through the Chase mining company in the yet to be settled southern California. I had finally hit what they referred to as “pay dirt” and the life savings I had sunk into the claim began to pay off in small marble sized nuggets of gold.
As I crept towards town with my mule and wagon I was set upon by a band of harriers. They had put together that the only reason a man of my situation would be rambling toward town was that I had something worth bringing in.
After an intense but brief interrogation during which I refused to divulge the whereabouts of the gold (I had stashed it in the safest place I could think to, inside my buttocks), I was strung up around the branch of a large Redwood tree and then beaten with sticks like a human piñata, and eventually the beatings jarred loose my anally bound treasure spilling my life’s work upon the ground beneath me.
They jeered and spat at me while they gathered up their ill gotten gains and broke free on horseback while I continued my suspended death dance. A small favourable occurrence was the beating I took had set forth a considerable amount of centrifugal force as I spun back and forth causing abrasive damage to the hastily fashioned noose.
Now hang in the balance of this waiting game to see which runs out first, my breath, or the strength of this rope.
Hugs,
Big Jay
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