Suspended Duty
I withdrew my cranium from beneath the door with a loud pop, turned around, and spotted a dangling red mesh bag full of spare keys on the coat rack hook. An aerial assault was mandatory. I scaled the wooden umbrella bin and hurled my crooked torso straight into the mesh webbing. My midsection instantly punched through a hole while my curved head snagged on the upper loop. I hung there swinging like a pendulum. Is hanging by my neck over a cold tile floor dignified? Irrelevant. I kicked one stubby foot, locked my chin around the brass keyring, and took complete command of the airspace.


