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Morbid Bit

Some years back, on a rainy summer/early autumn morning, a guy from work jumped out of a gaping hole that was a glassless window. It is in the staircase, on my floor. When the elevator is slow at coming, I'd use the stairs, morbid or not, sometimes I lean over the window, which remained glassless and open to space, to look out and down. I wonder what he saw, massive red brick building sprawling the whole block across the street? people moving around under colorful circular shield against the weather? buses? oak trees? probably not the lawn, because there was construction going on back then, there was scarffold blocking the view. Or, maybe nothing. He had what was called bi-polar then, manic-depression now. He was ashamed of it, and every time he was hospitalized, he told people he went on vacation to Africa. Not that I know at the time, or him, at all.

This is the funny thing about him, I do not know him, not one bit, except that he died. I could not put a face to the name back then, I do not even remember the name now. But I'd always remember him, as the guy who jumped. I will always wonder what it was like to get up on the window sill, and take the fatal last step.

Life is... what it is, no more, no less. Sometimes I wish it was a book and I can skip to the last chapter and be done with it; sometimes the smell of freshly mowed lawn is reason enough to go on. Most times, it just goes on.

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dime_for_12 July 23rd, 2010
wow, I was dumbstruck just reading that. I can't imagine ever witnessing or having something like that happen in a place I work. But as for everything else you've said, I think it's a common feeling, and you've expressed it rather nicely.

fourtenpm July 23rd, 2010
It was a circus for half a day before the police completed the investigation and OKed to have the body removed from where he landed. Of course, being oblivious to my surroundings, I did not know what all the excitement was about until it was over. You'd think it would have left some sort of evidence, something like this happened, but no, nothing. What got me was how NORMAL the world in general was, and why shouldn't it have been?

A man died and a woman wept for him. It was the most ordinary thing in the world. This is a line from a fic I read when I was like 12, stuck with me ever since. And now I think the man was not totally unlucky if he got a woman to weep for him.

Beats me why I am thinking about this on a Friday afternoon. Seriously I am getting old... and mopey.

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