Fall from Balcony or Second-Story Window

You go out the window backward and the hitching rail catches you square across the spine. Something deep in your back gives with a sound you feel in your teeth, and when you tell your legs to move, they take a long moment to answer.

• Carried to the doctor flat on a door-plank, nobody lets you try to walk
• Legs answer slow and pins-and-needles for 3 days
• Flat on your back on boards, no riding, no stairs, no arguments for 5 days
• /me lies rigid on the plank, eyes on the ceiling, toes twitching to order

Recovery A week flat on boards under the doctor's daily eye if the feeling holds; untreated, you gamble your legs on every jolt·Doctor, urgently

You land on one leg and the big bone of the thigh breaks with a crack that stops the fight upstairs cold. The doctor rigs weights and pulleys over the bed, hoists the leg toward the ceiling, and informs you that this is your view now.

• Strung up in traction, bedridden for 5 days, no exceptions and no visitors you'd want
• The leg splinted stiff and hauled straight by rope and window-sash weights
• A hard limp and a borrowed cane for 2 days once they cut you loose
• /me lies strapped to the bed, one leg hoisted skyward, glaring at the pulley

Recovery 6 days in traction under a doctor before you earn crutches; unset, the bone drifts and must be broken fresh to fix·Doctor, urgently

You put a shoulder down to save your skull and the collarbone snaps like green kindling. The arm hangs wrong off that side, and lifting it as high as your belt buckle is out of the question entirely.

• Strapped in a figure-eight bandage, no use of that arm for 5 days
• Cannot shrug, salute, or haul yourself into a saddle unaided
• A knob of healing bone rising under the skin, a trophy you keep

Recovery 5 days strapped tight with a doctor's care, 7 if you let the ends grind; either way it aches before storms·Doctor required

You land seated on the boardwalk and the jolt runs up your backbone like a hammer on a fence post. For a long minute your legs are all pins and cotton, and standing takes two men and a chair.

• Bed-bound with a board under the mattress for 3 days
• Walks stiff as a scarecrow, no riding, no lifting for 5 days
• Numbness ghosts through the toes, coming and going, for 2 days

Recovery 5 days lying flat while a doctor watches for worse, 7 with hot bricks and pig-headedness·Doctor required

You snatch the balcony rail one-handed and your own falling weight pops the shoulder clean from its socket before you drop the rest. The doctor plants a boot in your armpit and hauls until it clunks home, and the sound you make is discussed for weeks.

• Arm slung tight to the chest for 3 days
• No throwing, roping, or raising that arm above the shoulder for 3 days
• /me keeps the arm pinned to their ribs, turning their whole body to look at things

Recovery 3 days slung once it's reset, 6 if it slips its bed again from working too soon·Doctor required

The porch rail below breaks your fall and maybe two ribs with it, wood and bone cracking in the same breath. You finish the trip to the boardwalk wrapped around the wreckage like it owes you money.

• No lifting, brawling, or hard riding for 4 days
• Ribs wrapped snug, shallow breaths and short sentences
• Sneezing is a fresh catastrophe every single time

Recovery 4 days wrapped with a doctor's care, 7 if you keep leaning on bars instead of pillows·Doctor required

You take the landing on your hands and your face, and the boardwalk takes your nose in trade. The doctor sets it with two thumbs and no sympathy while both your eyes black up like a raccoon's.

• Two black eyes ripening for 4 days, you look like you lost, whatever you claim
• Breathing through your mouth for 2 days, snoring like a sawmill
• /me dabs at their nose with a kerchief already spotted red

Recovery 3 days of throbbing once it's set straight, 5 and a permanent crook if nobody sets it·Doctor required

The back of your head finds the one rain barrel on the street and the evening ends early. You wake in the dust with a ring of hats leaning over you and no memory of the argument that put you out the window.

• The last hour is simply gone, you take the story on faith
• Headache and slow, careful speech for 2 days
• No fast riding or gun work for 2 days
• Someone wakes you through the night to check your eyes

Recovery 2 quiet days with a watcher, 4 foggy ones alone, and a second knock could be your last for a while·Doctor required

You land well enough, but the ankle turns on the boardwalk edge and swells to the boot-top by the time the bartender brings your hat down after you.

• Walk, never sprint, for 3 days
• Boot laced loose over the wrapping, or carried
• /me steps down off the boardwalk sideways, ankle held stiff

Recovery 3 days wrapped and propped, 5 if you keep dancing on it·Doctor advised

You hit side-on and slide a plank's length, and your hip takes the whole bill. By morning the bruise runs from belt to knee in colors no painter could sell.

• Mounting a horse from a block or a barrel for 3 days
• Sleeps on one side only, groaning at every roll-over
• Shows the bruise for free drinks, it earns them

Recovery 3 days of stiff walking, 5 before the colors even start to fade·Doctor advised

You break the fall with one hand and the wrist bends further than God intended without quite breaking. It swells hot and puffy and refuses to hold a coffee pot by nightfall.

• Wrist wrapped firm, no gun hand for 2 days
• Can't wring a rag, deal a deck, or tip a full bottle
• A deep ache that wakes you when you roll onto it

Recovery 2 days wrapped and rested, 4 if you keep testing it on door handles·Doctor advised

Your knee clips the water trough's rim on the way down and the joint puffs up tight and hot. It bends, but it complains loud enough for the whole street to hear about it.

• Stairs are misery for 2 days, takes them one at a time
• Leg held straight out when seated, tripping passers-by
• No kneeling or squatting to work for 3 days

Recovery 3 days favoring it, 5 if you insist on crouching to shoe horses·Doctor advised

The awning post parts your hair on the way past, and scalps bleed like they're paid by the pint. You look half-murdered by the time you stand, though three silk stitches close the whole matter.

• Three stitches hidden under the hatband
• A blood-crusted collar until laundry day tells the tale for you
• Hat sits crooked over the tender spot for 3 days

Recovery Stitches out in 5 days; left undressed it crusts, weeps, and takes 7 with a fever scare·Doctor advised

You go through the canvas awning first, which costs the saloonkeeper considerably more than it costs you. You land in the wreckage with rope burns, a dusting of canvas, and a bill.

• A red rope-burn stripe across one forearm for 2 days
• An evening picking splinters from the awning frame out of your palms
• The saloonkeeper knows your name now, and not warmly

Recovery A day of smarting, 2 for the stripe to fade, the bill lasts longer·No doctor needed

You land on both feet with a crack you feel from heel to teeth, but everything holds. You stand there vibrating like a struck bell while the whole bar leans out the window above to check.

• Heels ache for a day, walks like the floor is rented
• Knees stiffen up by morning
• The story reaches the bar upstairs before you do

Recovery A day of aching, gone by the morning after·No doctor needed

Some old instinct tucks your chin and you roll through the landing like a circus tumbler, fetching up against the trough. Bruised in six places, broken in none.

• Dusty head to toe and bruised for 2 days
• One shoulder stiff where the roll started
• /me beats the street dust off their hat against a thigh, casual as they can manage

Recovery 2 days for the bruises to quiet, less if you keep moving·No doctor needed

Flat on your back on the boardwalk, and every breath you own leaves at once. For a long minute you gasp up at the balcony you just left while your assailant waves down at you.

• A full minute of fish-mouthed gasping with an audience
• Chest sore to deep breaths for a day
• An assailant to settle up with, at your leisure

Recovery Right by morning, though the waving haunts you longer·No doctor needed

Providence parks a loaded hay cart under that window tonight. You punch into the load, vanish to your boots, and climb out wearing half the harvest, entirely unhurt.

• Hay working out of your clothes for a full day
• A sneezing fit at the worst possible moments
• The carter would like a word, and then several more

Recovery Nothing to heal, the hay took the whole bill·No doctor needed

You drop square into the horse trough, and two feet of green water does what feathers couldn't. You come up spitting with a horse looking sideways at you, wet through and whole.

• Soaked to the skin, dripping a private rainstorm home
• Smells faintly of pond until a proper bath
• The horse holds a grudge about its water

Recovery Dry by morning, dignity in 2 days·No doctor needed

You come off the balcony, drop clean astride the stranger's horse hitched below, and the animal barely stamps. You take up the reins like the whole night was a plan, and the street will never agree on what it saw.

• A tender seat for a day, the sole cost of legend
• Witnesses on both sides of the street, each telling it bigger
• /me settles into the borrowed saddle and touches their hat brim, calm as Sunday

Recovery Nothing to heal, though you do owe a stranger his horse back·No doctor needed