Marvin tells me of a spot in the subway station where the suicidal people make their jumps.
And of a blue phone you pick up when you need someone to stop you.
I stand in the subway station and hold the concrete post: to secure myself and prevent my body from lunging forward.
As the ground beneath me rattles, the wind picks up and I see it.
This poor yellow line: painted to remind you where safety ends.
These delicate rusted railings: rotting to ensure your balance.
This peak right before a wall: where the train emerges too swiftly to see its jumper and stop.
The train powers towards me and in a flash I see what all those suicidal people do before darkness engulfs them.
As the blurred faces and bright lights flash by I see it.
I see the perfect spot
Colourless and dull.
The blue phone is nowhere to be found.
– Porridge: A Memoir
A memoir about life after death, and a little girl who nearly lost her life after her father lost his.