The crudely crafted noose held firm even as the bough bent with the weight and the manic throes of my dying body. My executioners, already bored with my dance, had moved on to some other activity that may struck their fancy as my village burned.
I watched them leave at the leisure of the twisted rope around my neck. My movements and a light breeze periodically turned me around and showed me their retreating backs.
My body was frantic with activity, it’s innate desire to cling to life was working overtime.
In spite of this, my mind was calm. My final thought as the last of my breath escaped me was of revenge.