After a little I heard her steps
retreating. My arms, wrenched overhead and numbed with the bite of the
cords, were beginning to hurt badly now. But it wasn't too bad. Surely
she did not mean that this should be all....
Sternly I controlled my imagination, taking a tight rein on my thoughts.
There was only one way to meet this--hanging blind and racked in space,
my toes barely scrabbling at the floor--and that was to take each thing
as it came and not look ahead for an instant. First of all I tried to
get my feet under me, and discovered that by arching upwards to my
fullest height I could bear my weight on tiptoe and ease, a little, the
dislocating ache in my armpits by slackening the overhead rope.
But after a little, a cramping pain began to flare through the arches of
my feet, and it became impossible to support my weight on tiptoe. I
jarred down with violent strain on my wrists and wrenched shoulders
again, and for a moment the shooting agony was so intense that I nearly
screamed. I thought I heard a soft breath near me.
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