I had been hit by a train so went to Q Resort to convalesce for a week. The doctor said the damage wasn’t bad, but had urged me to take time for myself. So I made the journey to Q Resort.
I spent most of my time at Q Resort sitting out on my veranda and staring absently at the world beyond. There were mountains covered in snow. There was a stream, partially frozen. Etc. I reflected on my brush with death.
One day I found a dead cockroach in my room at Q Resort. I didn’t tell the Hispanic maid; I left the cockroach where it died because it seemed peaceful. The Hispanic maid must have found it because two days later it was gone. I was bereft, a little, but made due, and used the experience to reflect further on the nature of living and dying.
Convincing myself that all life culminates majestically in death, I jumped from the edge of my veranda one night.
Because my room at Q Resort was on the second floor, however, I ended up only with a badly sprained ankle. Unable to walk, I extended my stay at Q Resort another week.
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