He was never really an accomplished funambulist in the first place. In fact he was one of those people who managed to throw a surprise at people when they least expected. At times he displayed sparks of genius in whatever he did, yet sometimes he gave the impression that goddess luck was his favorite mistress. The only thing consistent about him was that he performed marvelously under tremendous amount of pressure. It was like a bizarre quantity of pressure was the only fuel that sustained this possessed man.
During his last act, when the villagers were about to write him off, he did the unthinkable. He took the biggest risk of his life and pulled it off with incredible gusto. He let himself fall off the rope exactly when he reached the middle and even as the unsuspecting villagers let out a scream he hung on to it with his two toes and swung like a pendulum until his body came to a rest. No one had ever seen anything of that caliber ever before. Suddenly the tightrope walker was the new God in the little village.
The dumbfounding story of Nash Skye and his incredible act spread like wildfire. It was only about a week back when less than twenty people waiting to tear him apart with their cynicism witnessed an act of divinity. Today there were easily a hundred of them gathered around to see their 'God' perform once again. They waited with bated breath as he walked towards the middle of the rope. THUD! The pale thin man fell halfway through his act & lay paralyzed in a pool of blood even as the spectators began to walk away. Some of them walked away hastily to avoid being in a nasty scene while the others quickly decided to grab a cup of tea from the nearby tea-shop. One thing was quite certain. Everyone in the village had found a new topic to discuss for many days to come
-The fall of the tightrope walker!
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