“Hey, what’s goin’ on?” The guy who had been on the bicycle has moved a bit closer. I step back a bit from the bridge’s edge, not wanting him to think I am contemplating anything as outrageous as jumping. He is typical Seattle: shaggy dark brown hair, full beard in a matching hue, cargo shorts, and a “Trophy Cupcakes” T-shirt. There’s a tattoo of a fish on one of his calves.
Please don’t be some kind of do-gooder. I just want a few minutes to remember the best and the worst…and then, quickly, and with true finality, to free myself of a world with you in it.
I glance over at him and give him a small smile: tight, and I know it has to look awkward. “Not much, buddy!” My voice comes out cracked and overly bright. “Just admiring the view.”
“Mind if I join you?” The guy inches a little close
