Another Story I’ll Never Write

A Psychiatrist is listening to a manic, delusional patient who’s saying things like, “Why shouldn’t I be exuberant, anywhere and everywhere? They send me to talk to you because I glory in life, in myself, because I want to dance on tables? Because I know I can break through the boundaries of the universe? Why not ride exultation to the stars?” The psychiatrist is thinking that it’s ironic, his previous patient was a depressive older man, who’d said, “Life is a waiting room, for people my age, where we wait to be processed for death. We have accomplished all we can hope to, by our time of life; our friends and spouses are dead. Why live? Why go on? People are just waiting for us to go away anyhow.” The psychiatrist’s reminiscence is interrupted when the manic patient shouts, “I’ll show you that I can fly on wings of pure exultation!” And he throws himself through the window, the glass shattering, he falls ten stories…onto the depressive elderly patient, who’d been dawdling in the restroom on his way out. The falling manic patient kills the depressive patient and…survives because he fell on the older patient.

“Look!” he shouts to the psychiatrist! I have flown out a ten story window and lived!” But it becomes apparent that he’s broken his spine and all his bones, is quadriplegic, and he falls into a depression… What a curious synthesis, the psychiatrist thinks…

Maybe I should write it? NAHHHHHHH

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