Choosing My End

I chose the moment of my death carefully.

I had settled the accounts of my life, not telling anyone what I was planning on doing.

I selected the cliff overlooking the sea, deciding that it was beautiful and relatively  peaceful, but given I had to cross a fence to get there, I wouldn't be found by a kid.

I drove there, parked, left a note in the car, and went and sat down.

I drank a bottle of wine, ate a hunk of cheese, and lifted the gun.

I wasn't sure what to do when I couldn't pull the trigger.