light and he instinctively pulls himself up as it appears the world is dissolving under him.
The voice calls out to him again: That’s it, now pull yourself up. One hand at a time.
He is irritated by the voice, something about it seems familiar to him. The accent maybe, he doesn’t know. He can’t place it. But something about it now caused him to question his decision to climb the rope. Like a memory of a food that made you sick once as a child and was now forever engrained in your subconscious as something to avoid. His options were limited however and like a starving man he was not going to turn down any meal no matter what his amygdala was screaming at him.
He climbs the rope quickly but cautiously and,