"I want to die. See the afterlife", he said.
Wanting a dramatic exit, but uncertain of method (as he is with everything) he asked me. "Gunshot", said I. Too messy, apparently.
"Overdose of pills?" Too complicated. He might just fall ill.
"Ah. Jumping from a tall building?" Acrophobia. I could understand that.
I suggested many things, honestly. Stepping under a bus, hosepipe in the car, hanging... the traditional paths to Heaven, or Hell.
Seemingly not. "You really want this?"
Pause. "Yes". Pause. "But how do I get there?"
He's still around. Some journeys, it seems, are too tough to start.
Composed for an ideath challenge:
100 words in 10 minutes on "How do you get there?"
Thanks to BlueDragon and Demeter for support and input
Thinking of you, gbear, and wishing you were still around.