The rope bridge is collapsing behind me.
Scrambling for purchase,
I see the backs of heads.
My hand slips against the grain of the fibers.
I could reach with my other,
but it’s holding the scissors.
Nov 16, 2025
Nov 16, 2025 at 10:09 PM UTC
The rope bridge is collapsing behind me.
Scrambling for purchase,
I see the backs of heads.
My hand slips against the grain of the fibers.
I could reach with my other,
but it’s holding the scissors.
I’m not even sure what was on the other side of the bridge | h.t.