by Eric Beetner
It took a hell of a lot longer than I thought it would and God damn but my arms started to hurt. It was that burning in the forearms like after you did too many chin-ups trying not to look like a pussy in gym class. I started to doubt my choice of rope as it seemed like the breath would never fully leave his lungs. The bastard kept sputtering out a little bit more and, I think, letting in tiny puffs of air but really he was only teasing his lungs the way an ex-smoker likes to inhale a little more deeply when he walks through a smoky bar just to get a taste. He was staring me in the eye too which freaked me out and I kept having to look away which made it hard to tell when he was finally gone. I know eye contact shouldn’t bother me that much but it didn’t help that he was my twin.
Eric Beetner blogs here.