Somewhere, under it all, was the solution. Seeing as the solution was required there was nothing for it other than to start picking it all up. Bit by bit, one heavy piece at a time, being careful not to break anything else in the search for one final fix.
He was pretty sure that was where he’d find it.
Today wasn’t like the other days. Something about the light. Like all that had been before, the darkness and uncertainty, the fear and the pain. Gone. That expectation that tomorrow would be as today as yesterday shattered as he opened the curtains and let the light shine in.
A new day. Certainly. And this time a hope of a new beginning.
The car didn’t stop at the lights. That much was true. The fact that the lights were green at the time didn’t seem to concern the police officer standing over Martin who, frankly, looked like he wanted a good reason to try out the gun that currently sat, holstered but unclipped, by his side.
It probably didn’t even have to be a good reason. Any reason would do. One chance to take out the gun, release the safety, and empty the clip into anyone he could find.
Martin didn’t want to die. Ok, that was not completely true. He didn’t want to die just yet. Not for another 37 minutes. But he didn’t want to be blamed for killing the idiot who must have jumped a red light. There was no way Martin could have stopped in time. Nor should he have had to, given that his light was green. And green, as far as he remembered, meant go. That is the reason his car hadn’t stopped at the lights. That is the reason Martin hit the idiot, who must have jumped a red light, side on at 60mph. That is why Martin met Officer Loaded Gun. That is why Martin was going to be late. And today was not a good day to be running late.
Martin looked at the ground. He had his shoes on the wrong feet.
This, of course, didn’t matter when the bomb went off.
He wasn’t expecting that to work. Finally he had managed to succeed.
Unfortunately, his attempted suicide was supposed to be just that. An attempt. A cry for help. A final shout into the crowd of people who so often failed to acknowledge his very being. And now, it wasn’t a cry, it wasn’t a shout, it was a suicide. An end. But also, he realised as he looked down at his lifeless body, a beginning. The beginning of what he did not know. But he intended to find out. He was pretty sure it couldn’t get any worse than the crap that had been the previous.
Maybe this will be ok, he thought as he picked up his bag, stepped over his former shell, and headed out of the hotel. Strange. His bag had traveled with him to the afterlife. But not his hat. That remained on the floor. He had liked the hat. Though the pool of blood it was now sat in meant he didn’t mind too much about leaving it behind.