I was on the platform at my local suburban station on Wednesday afternoon and as the train pulled in I had this urge to step forward and jump in front of it.
I didn’t, obviously.
I was going into town to buy brushes at Home Bargain. I already had paint and I was going to do the front bedroom. The paint on one of the walls is so thin you can see the plaster. My wife’s been going on about it for a year and now my brother’s coming to stay it’s time for action, she says.
This wasn’t the first time I thought about suicide. The first time was in 1990. I convinced myself I had cancer and was stockpiling aspirin so I could do away with myself before the pain crippled me. Something in my brain clicked in and I went to the doctor. May 1st this was. He asked me if I was gay for some reason, poked me about a bit and then gave me beta blockers. I didn’t take them.
I have a wife, three kids, four grand-children. I made a good career in the bank and retired early with a good pension. We own the house. We went to India this year, we’re going to Kenya next. My physical health is fine, not like a lot of people I know.
Lots of people are thinking about suicide. There are posters up at the station about mental health. They say it’s alright to feel down.
Words: Richard Rooney
Illustration: A.I.
Flash Fiction 250
Flash Fiction 250 