strange gossip THE END

At some point, years later, I looked up the anti-suicide PSA. There was Robert Smith, crooning over a bunch of sad hipsters in a graveyard. I watched it again and again.

I was enthralled.

They had made the right choice.

The song was beautiful.

And Robert Smith was beautiful.

And the hipsters were beautiful.

They looked familiar.

One in particular, especially.

She looked suicidal, and then she didn’t.

I watched her, over and over again.

And I felt better.

Little by little, I felt better.

It was a pretty effective PSA.

I didn’t feel suicidal at all.