the improvised gibbet
didn't satisfy her too much " death must come
wisely" her good friend had whispered to her
she had stolen the thick belt
from her mother's overcoat and now it was hanging in a strange way
in the middle of the orchard among the appletrees

"I will not struggle, I will not put out my tongue
I will not have an orgasm" she was swinging gently at the end
of the belt, she strained her neck for two or three seconds
and remained in a bizarre position with her long
printed dress rustling among the appletrees.