It's true what they say about the fall and the sudden stop at the end.
I'd lain here in the snow while the lurid chain of scenes that had led me here kept playing in my head, a rerun of my own private snuff movie, a memory of my corpse. Alone at my own wake. Thinking in metaphors again.
The femme fatale was gone. Only a sour taste remained of the kiss that killed me.
Departure Manuscript: The Sudden Stop 1
