Reads: 604  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A man goes into a coffee shop. He orders a drink and contemplates the idea of suicide and how time consuming and extremely hard it is.

Submitted: October 01, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 01, 2013



Thomas Chambers


“Espresso please.” I said with a melancholy delight. The barrister went away and did her thing as I went to find my table. It was in the corner by the window that I found my seat. It was raining outside. The window pane was taking a right beating as it crashed against it, sounding like maracas at some sort of Cuban festival.
The smell of freshly ground coffee filled my nostrils with a refreshing morning smell, that made me think of happier times. Times of utter beauty and I relished in those thoughts. I relished in them greatly.
“One espresso.” The woman set the small cup and saucer down with a napkin underneath.
“Thank you.” I nodded, politely.
She smiled. There was a gap in her tooth and a bit of chocolate smeared on her tooth, probably from her lunch break. I took a sip from the caffeine infused beverage, it was piping hot and somewhat delightful as I fell down my gullet into my stomach. I loved that feeling.

Anyway enough of my ramblings about coffee and barristers with chocolate on their teeth. I had come here for one reason and one reason only. To write my suicide not. I sat there for at least twenty minutes coming up with preposterous ideas on how I would tell my wife, “I was going to a better place.” how my life isn't “worth living.” I began to write to my mum and dad and tell them: “They raised me greatly.” and “How it wasn't their fault that I wanted to die.” It took my half an hour to come up with:
Dear beloved wife, mother, father.
I am going to die now.
I quite obviously couldn't write something that brutal. Although to me It would bring me some pleasure to see their faces if I left something so abrupt. Obviously that is not my intention. I want to let them down easy, tell them it is okay and give them all my funeral arrangements. That reminds me! I must write a will.

I have often thought of ways of killing myself. Jumping in front of the bus was too painful and even then I may not die. Hanging myself seemed the right option. Until I Googled it and found you actually empty your bowels upon kicking the stool. As much as it seemed the right way to go, I still care about my smell and I don't believe my wife would like to see her husband hanging from the ceiling with soiled slacks. I laughed at the thought. How grim. I have considered overdosing, but I never much liked the idea of swallowing all those pills and alcohol really doesn't agree with me. I winced at the thought. Another way to die was by cutting myself in the tub, too messy, my mother wouldn't want to clean that mess. She had all on scrubbing the floor when my aunt Susan spilt red wine on her carpet. I considered dropping a plugged in toaster, but that means buying an extension chord that would reach upstairs. I guess you could say I wanted a quick and easy way to die but to be honest killing yourself is extremely hard and there are a lot of factors to think about.

By this time I had ordered two more espressos and I was on my first cup of tea. I also had a scone with jam on it, delicious.

Was I being cynical? Did I want to die? Was I just having a bad day? I had contemplated death quite a lot and let me tell you I had found some pretty creative ways to kill yourself online. Google it! Just Google it, then you will know. I had considered hiring an assassin to do it for me, so it would be murder more than suicide, but I just couldn't afford the asking price. I needed to find an alternate, something cheap, less time consuming and easy.
I must've been in that coffee shop for at least two hours before deciding what to write in my note without it sounding cheesy or stupid. See it was like writing a best man's speech. You had to be funny (not in this situation), you had to come up with something original, something that then wouldn't overshadow the groom's speech. It was almost impossible. Google was my primary source but I just didn't work, nothing was original it was all the same mushy crap, that let's face it no one really wanted to hear.

So here I am writing a suicide note that is not original, not excitingly different to any of the others. I understand now why the suicide rate is so low in Britain, because we are too polite to die without saying goodbye so we write a suicide note and every time we do it, it's the same. No originality. It's to time consuming so we can not simply just top ourselves. So we choose life. The bitter sweet joy of life.

© Copyright 2019 Thomas Chambers. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More Other Short Stories