My Perfect Death

Sometimes, when I think about how I want to die, I imagine a scene at sunset, myself lying on the roof of some skyscraper, in some random city. I can’t even think straight, my mind shot from countless amounts of booze. And as I turn to my right, I see a girl in my arms–a girl who’s more gorgeous than I remember from the previous night. She looks me in the eyes and says “You don’t deserve me,” and I know she’s right.

Resigning myself to a perfect experience, I close my eyes and shift into darkness.

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