The Iron Rigging

A weathered cast-iron pulley was bolted right to the porch post, cradling a thick looped clothesline like an uncharted ship's rigging! Naturally, an intrepid captain does not permit an idle wheel on his watch. I scrambled atop a wooden planter box, coiled my stuffing, and leaped boldly to seize the lower rope with both plush paws. Heave-ho! I threw all my weight downward. SKREEE-CHIRP! The rusted wheel groaned awake, spinning with sudden ferocity and hoisting me straight into mid-air! I gasped in pure theatrical terror, clutching the rough cord as my legs dangled over the abyss. Then—slip! Down I plunged, landing with a puffed-up thud upon a canvas chair cushion. Ha! The aerial engine is officially conquered!