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He couldn’t feel his fingers. He couldn’t feel anything for that matter, but tonight was especially cold. A chilly December night, and he was poised balancing above the bridge. Submitting himself to idle curiosity, he removed a shoe and let it drop. Several seconds passed in the muted twilight, till a resounding splash informed him that it was lost in the tumultuous current underneath.

The endless expanse below seemed uninviting and foreboding, yet there was something seductive about how very final it would be if he were to just…jump off.

So he did.

 

Copyright © 2016 Rebecca Sherratt

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