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Klippy
August 27th, 2009, 10:25 PM
Front steps. I sigh and hand the cab driver the fare. I do not linger for long because I will be returning to this spot in a matter of minutes. I walk up the stairs and a doorman greets me. He's young. A smell of cigarettes lingers near him. He's opting for the slower suicide it seems. He opens the glass door and I enter, thanking him, but not looking into his face as I say it.

Lobby. I quickly walk past the security desk where a heavyset, middle-aged guard is reading the newspaper. A stain is sunk deep into the cotton of his uniform. A sprinkled doughnut is littered on his desk. Crumbs are everywhere. A coffee cup is sitting next to the doughnut, still steaming.

Elevator. I reach the elevator in a timely manner and press the highest button labeled “Roof”. I repeatedly press it as a woman with a small baby is streamlining towards the elevator I am in. I do not want company on this climb.The doors slide closed as I hear the woman utter several choice words about me. I smirk because I know she’ll regret them after she sees what is outside. My heart beats several times faster than it usually does. It knows it needs to get as many beats in as possible before the darkness fades in.

Sixth floor. A vibration ripples through the air as an annoying ringtone reverberates through the elevator. I reach inside my coat pocket and draw my cellphone out like a small, black sword. My wife. I click the silencer and replace it in my pocket. She had all the time in the world to call me as she slept with her boss behind my back.

Thirteenth floor. Time. It’s a funny thing, isn’t it? Like a crushing nose bleed begging to end its misery. My misery. Forty-seven years old and time has given me nothing but a small heart attack, several surgeries and two broken toes. You just can’t understand life and how precious the ending is until you’re climbing your way to the end. Climbing twenty-one floors of the national bank to simply send yourself down to the lobby doors mere moments later.

Roof. The doors flush open into the bright, New York City skyline. The air is calm, somewhat cool and fresh. I can smell the hotdogs down by the vendor from up here. The small breeze is carrying it, I assume. I slowly lift my feet up and down, walking to the edge of the roof. They feel like they are one hundred pounds, but I also feel like I can lift them.

Ledge. I am finally here. The time that will be how I am remembered. My head is pounding with the desire to alleviate my mind from this growing pressure. I pick my right foot up and place it on the ledge, then lift the rest of my aching body upon the beginning of the end. I take a deep breath. I am trying to savor the last bits of humanity I shall ever feel, and then I dive. Like a swan or a Olympic champion swimmer. The judges in my head each raise a 10 in praise of my perfect dive. I can’t believe I’m smiling.

Sixteenth floor. The rush of cold air rapidly presses against my skin like a chilly, but welcoming hug.

Fourteenth floor. My cellphone slips out of my pocket and I let it pass by me. Its time is going to end sooner than mine will.

Ninth floor. I hear the rush of wind in my ears, then screams from below.

Fifth floor. Suddenly my ears pop and I have gone deaf. I feel the blood trickle out of them and then feel blood gush from my nostrils.

Third floor. The pavement is getting closer.

Second floor. People rush away and into buildings to shield themselves from the man-missile heading directly for the front steps of the building. I realize my mistake too late as the gray stone draws nearer.

Lobby. Thoughts race through my head, but it's too late to have regre-

Front steps.

Gold warehouse
August 31st, 2009, 12:33 PM
The scene and what he is sensing is well described, I can imagine it in my head perfectly. The layout of him traversing from floor to floor is very innovative. Similes were well used also.
I couldn't help but feel it was a little cliched though, how his wife was sleeping with her boss and how he threw himself off of a building sounded a little too 'Hollywood'. A slightly more complex backstory could improve it. Your grammar is near perfect, I only spotted a few very minor errors.
Overall it is well written, the layout especially. I commend you.

Klippy
August 31st, 2009, 02:12 PM
Well I wrote it because of the Get-Together writing contest thing, but then I realized it had to be related to Pokémon. XD The original copy started during the fall and ended before he died. XD;

And I didn't really do a huge backstory or explain how he found out about her cheating on him because it was meant to be in medias res, but thanks for the positive comments. :>