Tears streamed down his face as he thought about the past few days. ''Broken beyond repair'' was how he felt about his life. He ran a finger along the sharp edge of the knife he was holding and then he just sat there staring at the thin rivulet of blood. The doors were locked, the suicide note was written, the stage was set. Life, as he had lived it, raced past his empty eyes. And then his eyes caught a sudden movement. A Pizza Hut coupon had freed itself from the pile of newspapers and was fluttering about under the fan. Two days ago, they had ordered pizzas and she'd sat with him at that very spot on the floor as they watched their favorite show on tv. He wondered what she would think of him when she heard the news. Or did she care any longer? The coupon suddenly felt heavy in his hands. He stared at it for some more time. He felt he had to do something. His hand scrambled for his phone, the pain of the cut finger forgotten. The number was on speed dial.
''Hello! I'd like to order a small chicken supreme pizza...''
''Hello! I'd like to order a small chicken supreme pizza...''