That was the summer we swiped the rope and tied it to the big tree by the river so we could swing from the bank and into the water, tied a noose in the end as a joke.“That’s not a proper hangman’s knot,” said Seth.
“And how would a faggot know that?”
None of us liked Seth much, and he never did learn to swim, but that didn’t stop him from coming down every day to watch the rest of us horsing around ——
“Hey, faggot, watch this!”
—— our last carefree summer, till the morning Seth got there before us.
Image from from foto.moon.pl.
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