The rope dangled over the edge of the beam, gleaming a white purer than anything else in the barn. It just drew the eye naturally. One couldn't help looking at it and thinking that maybe if you got the ladder and leaned it up against the beam, then it would be an easy thing to remove the rope, to take it down and burn it, or maybe just to unwind the noose and store it in a drawer where it could be used for more ordinary purposes that would dull that gleaming white and redeem the idea of the rope. She knew better. She knew that the idea of getting a ladder and getting close to the rope, that was where it all started. Her uncle had started talking about getting "that damn cursed rope down" the week before he hanged himself. Cursed, she thought, in more ways than one. Why else would it have still hung up there after the EMTs lifted her mother and got her down. Wasn't it usual to have to cut the rope?


Inspiration: The cord of the blinds hanging down.
Story Potential: Low.
Notes: Yes, it's creepy, but not that interesting.