Jim Towns, Fools at the Feet of a Hanged Man

My short story FOOLS AT THE FEET OF A HANGED MAN, presented by #DodgingtheRain

DODGING THE RAIN

It had been so long since it had rained, that no one could remember it now.

A shrill wind blew across the barren terrain, washing over its featureless expanse- empty but for a lone, lopsided gibbet. From the gibbet the body of a hanged man dangled, swaying in the sporadic gusts.

A small group of people dressed in ragged black clothing huddled at the feet of the hanged man, gazing up. They muttered and murmured, shifted and shuffled. A wizened woman muttered through cracked lips:

“Such a shame…”

“It’s better than he deserves.” spoke a man nearby.

Yet another man muttered: “I’m hungry.” To which the old woman replied sharply:

“You’re always hungry…”

One by one, the people began to slowly drift away, until there was only one figure left. Wearing the patched, motley garments of a fool, he was hunched and misshapen, and a part of his face was…

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