From a great height he watched. Cars, buses, boats, people. Slowly, he drew his plans for his great escape.

Will it result in death? Or to live in denial?

He looked at their faces, watched them closely as the time flew past.

Every day he watched. One by one they passed. One by one they moved on. Moved on with their own lives. Unlike him.

Every day he would see the exact same characters going past. The milkman dragging the crate of glass bottles across the pavement, the few tourists dragging their luggage bags behind them, the girl searching for the keys to her apartment…clink clink clink…all the same, every single day.

He couldn’t see the point of living any more.

Today, it was going to be different. With a pen and paper in his hand, he began to think of the different things he could write on it. He scribbled a few words down...then scored a line through it. Scribbled again…another line through. He tried to scribble down all the reasons as to why his life is worth living; was his life really that useless?