“Once upon a time,” mumbled Addison.
The wind lifted his long, golden locks as his head craned over the edge of the rooftop to glimpse the pavement six floors below. Addison exhaled with the desperation of a much older man. He was never much of a story-teller. If he had been, he would not have been standing there, attempting to mold a story to be thrown over the side of the building with him. He dangled and dipped a foot over the void for a moment before stabilizing.
“The prodigal catharsis,” he mumbled wryly, body relaxing, preparing to be pulverized by the impact, “here it is.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” whimpered a frail voice.
Addison’s body reverberated in shock as he attempted to regain his balance on the corner of the rooftop. His eyes followed his edge to a scrawny girl supporting herself against the side of the ridge not twenty meters away. He attempted amusement.
“Why’s that?” he called.
“Because I wanted to,” she said, almost matter-of-factly, “but I don’t think I could do it if I had to watch you first.”
Addison smiled, considered it for a moment, then threw himself over. It was a fair trade.
Spencer Newsad is a student from Snoqualmie, Washington with affinities for creative writing, fried chicken, and self-deprecation.
© 2009 Spencer Newsad. Original for CCF. (Newsad grants CCF first electronic rights for one month; CCF may archive the material indefinitely and include it in an eBook anthology).
Editorial Note: "Fair Trade" is a fiction piece. It is not a real story. Suicide is real and final. You cannot change your mind after you've done it. Suicide is never ever the answer to our problems. There is always the hope that things can get better and, as long as we're alive, that hope has a chance of becoming a reality.
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