Chapter Twenty
The Hangover.
A lot of things go through a man’s head when his life is on the line. Was I a good person? Did I treat my family right? What could I have done differently? But, as I clung to the outside of the projection booth supported by my fingers and toes, suspended fifty feet above the cavernous dilapidated screen room, only one thought filled my mind.
Hold on.
I grasped the outside of the cracked window ledge, fingernails digging into rotting wood and feet gingerly resting against the wooden frame that made up the main supports. They say you should never look down, but with my body aching and to take my mind off the pain, I risked a glance at what remained of the seating below.
The old theatre had been ravaged by time, by vandals and most recently, by the thugs runn
