Limited though his understanding of physics was, John realized the twenty story fall should not have been taking that long. Shortly after this realization crystalized he noticed the man in the bowler hat, still standing calmly beside him. The wan smile across the man’s face seemed to mock him in a restrainted, civilized sort of way.

John blinked a few times and eyed the slowly approaching sidewalk, still more than ten stories down, “Did I jump?”

“Didn’t you?”

“Um, pretty sure.”

“So your real question is…”

After a moment’s thought, “I have several.”

“You must learn to prioritize, my boy.”

“You’re kind of rude for a guardian angel.”

“Still on that assumption, are we?”

Seven stories to go, and although somewhat closer to the ground John was no closer to understanding his unique predicament. The anger he’d felt for most of his life, that simmering, cancerous anger of impotence welled up from his gut to his neck. Fists clenched. Teeth ground against one another.

Death loomed six stories down.