Today's writing

The book of suicide has many chapters, each of them an option. Draw a blade across a wrist, a throat, wherever you can find one of the body’s major byways. Head in the oven: It worked for Sylvia Plath. Head against the wall, messy but poetic.

There’s always death by Fed-Ex truck: What do you mean, you’re turning the corner? Plow down this street and kill me!