Writing Prompt: The rope was frayed.

So need coffee. But first the prompt. no talking, just the timer.

Okay I feel a little better now that I’ve done the prompt. Still need coffee, but I think I also need an antihistamine. I just wasn’t awake enough to realize it. Kinda digging the adventure tale though.

Thursday, April 25^th: The rope was frayed.

The rope was frayed.  Someone cut it.  He could tell by the even ends, the blunt edge at the end.  It was not how a rope would fray naturally. 

He looked down over the edge of the cliff.  It was a long way down and all he had was the nub of rope still tied around the pillar by it’s edge.  At the bottom he could see what looked suspiciously like a coil of rope piled on the ground.  ‘Almost as if someone cut it and let it fall.’

He tried not to grind his teeth.  He knew Frank was ambitious but he never thought he would be this cutthroat.  In the thick woods behind him, George heard the sounds of pursuit.  He knew he had no real options.

‘Just think of it as free climbing,’ he told himself.  ‘Not scaling a cliff face because your work college is so ambitious he would rather see you dead than compete with you for research grants.’

George lowered himself over the edge.  His feet found toe hold and slowly he eased himself down and out of sight.  Fearful of being seen should anyone look over the edge, George angled his course to his left.  There were more rocky projections in that direction and he knew if he could get to the other side of them before anyone reached him, then he could use the rocks to shield himself from view. 

He moved as quickly as his inner caution would allow.  He tried to block out the sounds of his own mental beratement as he moved.  He knew this was dangerous and ill advised but he had no other options.  He didn’t need his own brain shouting safety lectures at him.  Still that was what it did, the entire way around the rocky outcropping.

The voices quieted slightly once he was around it.  On the other side, he found a small ledge.  Here he was well below the lip of the cliff and hidden from view.  Above him there was a small jut of rock that served to shield him further.  There was no path here, the narrow path he was following didn’t extend this way and the thick trees grew ll the way up to the edge.  It wasn’t the thickest of ledges, but it was sturdy and it allowed him to rest for a moment n relative security.  He was running before he had to climb and his body was in need of a rest.  He heard the pursuit approaching and he kept quiet and still.

In the stillness a though occurred to him as it hadn’t before.  ‘How had Frank cut the rope?’

He would have needed it to get down the cliff face, but the rope was cut and the rope was now at the bottom of the cliff.  ‘So who cut it?’

There was an answer and as George realized it, he had to swallow back several expletives. ‘Frank was working with Harold.’  It was the only explanation that made sense.  Somehow he hadn’t seen that one coming.