Alf's Curse

The depth of shit I found myself in had
reached my chin and was still rising…
With tears streaming down my contorted
face, body rigid and gripped by fear, and
the wind howling like a demented Banshee,
I asked myself the simple question: Why
was I stuck at the top of a pylon in bleak
midwinter, precariously dangling from what
seemed like several thousand feet up in
the air, risking my young life. Up to the age
of fourteen, my existence had been a
collection of disasters and calamities.
Never having ‘Lady Luck’ on my side, this
time I had pushed the boundaries too far…