Alex leaves the bar. The air is mild. A truly wonderful night to die.
It’s not the first time she’s having these thoughts even though, should you ever talk to her, she would assure you she was in no way suicidal and that you shouldn’t worry too much. There were days when she didn’t think about dying at all. According to her, it was all part of a vibrant fantasy.
But still the thoughts return. When she is by herself and lets her mind wander; when she is walking past dark houses and through the glow of warmly lit bridges. On the way home or to Ben, whom she’s known since they were little.
The trees are perfectly quiet tonight. Black silhouettes that frame the path, there is no rustle of the leaves. Back when she was a little girl she used to be afraid of the dark and the monsters that lingered in its shadows, yet today she praises its peaceful stillness that embraces and fills her with warmth.
A few more steps and she will cross the street corner. Past the three cars which are usually parked against the curb. Fifteen steps towards the short flight of stairs, four steps towards his door. There she waits and counts to thirty. Light is turned on on the second floor. It won’t be long till he comes downstairs.
She’s looking forward to seeing him. But still she cannot help but wonder: what if she didn’t come back tomorrow?