The decision has been made. Preparation must begin immediately; a trip to the hardware store is in order.

The older woman standing at the cash register scans each item. “Will this be all for you today?”

A nod is sufficient and the coiled lot is hoisted to a shoulder.

No paper is needed; likewise, no pen. Why make someone read the drivel? They are neatly stowed back in a drawer, and the chair pushed in.

Down the steps carefully, holding the means at a height free of a footfall–a tumble downward isn’t the plan or the goal. No. However, once at the bottom, beams in view, pre-measured at roughly nine feet, all is coming together.

Mere moments pass, arrangement of all the components are made–each positioned with care. Even the step stool is measured and placed with precision beneath the pendulous purchase. Ready.

Remote in hand, three tiny steps scaled, future secured after passing overhead; Rhapsody, Concerto No. 3 begins its pre-set loop.

Humming with the chords, a lone tear trickling, the stool crashes against the cement floor, askew and supporting no more.

K.J. Young has been writing for personal satisfaction over the last 20 years, only recently deciding to publish. A wide gambit of genres have been attempted, including suspense, mystery, romance, and fantasy.

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Every Day Fiction