She hadn’t planned to die, it was spontaneous.
The wood of her desk was lost under the unfinished stories, her fourth cup of coffee was yet to be drunken and her book was left open.
Just, just for one second, she was captured by the beams of light dancing outside. And that was enough. Her legs moved unconsciously, then slowly she climbed up to the window. A soft music was playing in the background, the saxophones hit their last notes and it was a perfect moment to fly. She was never this beautiful, nor life had ever been this addicting. With one last effort, she turned her head, looked at the newly baked cookies left untouched on her plate and inhaled the odour; yes it was a perfect moment to die.
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