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Call of the Void
L'appel du vide

L'appel du vide

Midnight. It had been raining all day, and puddles dotted the sidewalk. Soft, yellow streetlights formed islands of warmth, a reprieve from the biting cold. A man with an umbrella walked along the street, occasionally passing a taxi or a gas station spilling its neon welcome onto the wet pavement. The man seemed indifferent to the world around him - the lights, the cold, the wet. The lone figure walked until he reached an unfinished building, a government project of some sort. The rain had let up now. Folding his umbrella, he climbed the stairs with purpose and a hint of resignation. Tear marks streaked his face. As he reached the top, he lit a cigarette, the smoke wafting away gently. He took his time, savoring every inhale.

Our lone figure walked to the edge of the parapet, umbrella cast aside. He grunted in effort as he climbed onto the edge. A good 300 feet stared him in the face. The city stretched out below him, its buildings and streets glowing in the darkness. The rain had picked up again, the drops pattering against the umbrella that lay abandoned on the ground.

Without warning, the man leaned forward, his body tipping over the edge. He fell through the air, the wind rushing past him as he plummeted towards the ground. Below, life went on. Residents of the area were sound asleep, comfortable in their warm beds, unaware of what had happened. The rain continued to fall, a constant presence in the city's night sky.

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As the man fell, his thoughts turned to the events that had brought him to this point. He had always been a dreamer, full of ambition and determination. When he had moved to the city, he had been filled with excitement at the prospect of starting a new life. He had worked hard and made connections, determined to make a name for himself.

But things had not gone as he had planned. Despite his best efforts, he had struggled to find his footing in the cutthroat world of the city. He had been passed over for promotions and had lost out on opportunities that he had thought were within his grasp. And when he had finally landed a job that seemed to be his ticket to success, he had quickly realized that it was not the right fit for him.

Feeling lost and alone, he had turned to the one place that had always brought him solace - the roof of the unfinished building. He had come up here countless times before, seeking refuge from the chaos of the city. And as he fell through the air, he knew that this would be the last time he would find peace on this roof.

As he fell, the man's thoughts turned to the people he would be leaving behind. He wished he could have said goodbye to them, to tell them how much they had meant to him.

But it was too late now. The ground was rushing up to meet him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. As he closed his eyes, he thought of all the things he had left unsaid, of all the dreams he had never gotten the chance to chase. And then, with a final, fleeting thought, he let go.

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