Secret origins of the falling man

It’s a terrible thing that I have done and now it’s too late to take it back.

As I take that first and final step, I wish that Jane was here with me, to hold my hand as I fall. I never dreamed that I could be that selfish. There’s a brief moment where I feel like Wile E. Coyote racing across the abyss, and then friend gravity takes my hand instead. The cars shuffle past like a deck of cards, too fast for the eye to follow. I wish I had never done this, but I remember why I did it. If I had my genie, three wishes in my pocket, and if I was standing up there again -

I would do it exactly the same, and I would regret it exactly the same, and I wouldn’t wish this on anybody. It feels as if I was always waiting, and now everything is happening at once. Each storey is a second less of life, and it takes so long for the seconds to pass. I can’t keep my eyes open. The wind hurts them. And I can’t breathe, the air isn’t in my lungs any longer. Before I close my eyes one last time, what can I see?

A short way down the road below me, there’s a man standing next to a sports car who hasn’t seen me, yet. There’s three council bins, neatly lined up, coming closer and closer. There’s a skip parked outside a building site opposite, full to the brim with twisted metal and concrete blocks, garnished with fast food packaging. A cat jumps from the skip in alarm. It can’t see me but it knows I’m here. The man next to the car sees the cat, and then he glances up and he sees me. He doesn’t look surprised. It seems like he recognises me, but how can I see that when I can’t even focus on my own hands in front of me, how can I see his face so clearly? He smiles. I wish -

I wish -

- now I can’t even remember why I’ve done this. Three wishes, you promised me three wishes -

- I wish.

Oh, Jane. I love you. I -