Watching her car fade into the distance I walk around to the back door of the house. Opening the door, I catch a whiff of her perfume and pain swells inside of me. Memories—sudden and forceful—cause me to drop the empty bottle of cognac I had finished while waiting for her to leave.

I walk slowly down the hall to the master bedroom. Glaring at pictures on the wall I know I am no longer in. All these years I’ve been your ashtray. Not today, I think to myself as I push through the bedroom door.

After tying the rope around the ceiling fan and positioning the chair, I write the note for her to find along with my silhouette.

Standing on the chair I count down the hours:

There’s just 5 hours left until you find me dead
There’s just 4 hours left until you find me dead
There’s just 3 hours left until you find me dead
There’s just 2 hours left until you find me dead
There’s 1 more hour and then you will find me dead
There’s just…

I hear her car pull into the drive and kick away the chair.