By Mike Lee
I was sad, so I went to the bridge, and about to jump when I realized I left the pot boiling on the stove. Upon arrival, there was mail. I had to read them. Then I pet the cat. He is needy. FedEx then arrived with a package. After he left I remembered the clothes in the dryer. After folding and putting them away I was hungry.
After eating. I took a nap.
When I woke up I did not feel the need about some damn bridge.
Mike Lee is an editor, photographer and reporter for a trade union newspaper in New York City. His fiction is published in Bending Genres, Ghost Parachute, Reservoir and others.