This is the story of how I died. It will take a while, so I suggest finding a nice place to sit, a good light, and a blanket in case you get cold. Since this is the story of how I died, you might find it macabre . It is a dark tale full of irony and villainous deeds, may of which are of my own doing. In the end you will find that it is hard to say whether I died from blood loss or drowning. Either could have been the case.
At this point you might be wondering how I am writing this grisly tale. To be honest I am not sure. It is likely one of those things that happens when a story needs to be told. I am not sure why this particular story needs to be told, my life was relatively boring until the day I stubbed my toe in the subway on a large brief case. That is when things started to spiral out of control.
Section 1 - The Beginning of the End
Some might say that it was just another ordinary day. I carefully shaved my face after a run. My shower was neither too hot, nor too cold and life seemed to be in balance. I walked to the local bus station that would take me to work. Well it was supposed to take me to work, but after standing at the station for about 15 minutes a tall middle aged man in the dark blue uniform of an official transportation officer came to announce that there were no more buses available and that alternate methods of transportation would need to be taken.
I was about to walk home to fetch my car when I realized that there was a subway station that would take me close to my destination. I thought that it would likely be just as far to walk to the subway and then to work as it would be to walk home and take the car.
It is horrible trying to find parking in the city, especially if you opt into the public transit option and don’t get a parking pass because of it. I enjoy riding the bus. It gives me time to prepare for the work day in the morning and unwind before getting home in the evening. I was glad that I had heard someone talk about the subway.
The walk was pleasant. There were plenty of other people waking to the station and it was a rather pleasant day. It was neither too hot nor too cold and smelled a bit like fresh bread.
The smell of bread is particularly pleasant to me. I realize that there are some individuals that abhor bread or that cannot eat it. For such individuals I figure it might not have been pleasant to have such an aroma wafting through the air, but for me it was pure bliss. So much so that I stopped on the way at a local bakery to purchase an apple fritter for breakfast and a baguette in case I got hungry later in the day, my lunch being a little meager because I had not been shopping in a while and was planning on going that evening.