text: I just found 20 dollars in an old coat pocket. There I was, standing on the edge of the bridge in the early light of morning, about to take my final step... and I found 20 bucks. Can you believe the nerve? The audacity of the world at that very moment? The wind whipped at my trench coat and pulled me forward, goading me into that one step; one, tiny tumble. A few seconds of falling, then darkness, and everything would be over. Peace at last. My toes were already peeking over the edge. All it would take was a tiny shift in balance. Now though... now I wasn’t so sure. It's not like it was a five or a ten. A twenty! And I haven't worn this coat in years! Trench coats went out of style forever ago. What are the chances I still had money in here? It has to mean something... doesn’t it? Now I was too far into my head, which is how I ended up here in the first place. With a deep sigh, I looked down at the water below. Darkness swallowed up my vision as I struggled to swallow my nerve. My left hand held me in place as the right tightly grasped the crumpled 20. I closed my eyes and leaned back. Maybe it wasn’t my time yet. My mind swirled as I turned around, putting the quiet river behind me. No - tonight was definitely not the night. Maybe tomorrow. I stuffed the 20 dollar bill into the pocket of my jeans and carefully lifted one leg to swing it over the railing. My other foot slipped, and I confirmed that gravity was still working. Seconds stretched as my old friend panic came knocking, quickly shooed away by instinct. My arm flailed, fingertips scratching the guard rail, seeking purchase - and not finding it. I kept my hand extended as I fell, every fibre of my being grasping towards the cold steel, towards life. I could see safety fading away as my torso and head cleared the bridge. All I’ve done for the past year was think about this fall, but this was not how I imagined it. This was all wrong. Suddenly, my whole body jerked to a stop. The sleeve of my jacket caught on piece of metal, my wrist painfully straining. I heard and felt a small snap, and my arm exploded in pain. Remarkably, the sleeve held. So now I found myself suspended from the bridge by my limp wrist, certain death waiting below; a fate I no longer wanted a part of. If I moved, the jacket might tear... I was helpless. Ironically, my life was no longer in my own hands. The absurdity of the situation hit me and I couldn't help it. Laughter began in my stomach, and soon found its way to my mouth, erupting in a laugh so real, so full of giddiness that it barely sounded like me. This was unbelievable. Less than a minute ago I was ready to take fall willingly, and now, I just want to get back up. All because of this stupid, wonderful old coat. I can't even imagine what she must have thought when she looked over the edge and saw me hanging there, laughing. Maybe she was the type to process information logically. Maybe she looked at me and thought “What a crazy idiot.” Whatever she was thinking, she voiced only one thought out loud. "OH. MY. GOD." I looked up, and the shock of seeing someone else choked my laughter to a stop. Her face was cute and bright, dark hair tied back into a ponytail... and her eyes were large and round. To be fair, that could have been because she was staring at a man quite literally hanging by a thread. For some weird reason, I felt exposed, naked. I'd rather have a nun catch me masturbating then this pretty girl see me now, at my lowest point. "Don't move!" she screamed, as she disappeared from view. That was already my top priority, but every muscle locked up as I swayed quietly. The wind moaned softly... no, wait, that sound was coming from me. I clenched my jaw and forced myself into silence, and as I did, I could hear the threads on the sleeve tearing slowly. I closed my eyes and for some reason, all I could think of was the next few weeks. If I didn’t fall in the next few seconds and somehow, I got back on the stupid bridge, would there be cops, firemen? Could I go to jail? Therapy, at the very least, and I might lose my job *(I worked so hard for that office!)* and then what? What next? Something closed on my arm. I screamed from shock and pain, but my hand became a vice grip as it found someone else’s. “Don't worry, we have you." *We?* Fantastic. A crowd of people to witness my humiliation. All that was left was for someone to film this. Wiry, lean arms pulled me up by inches, and soon my face peeked over the side of the bridge. I saw there WAS a crowd... and they were all wearing short-shorts. One woman had her cell phone out and pointed at us. It was official: this was my nightmare. There were two men pulling me up while another man and a couple of women held onto them from behind, forming a small human chain. For some reason, my brain had time to process that it wasn’t a crowd of short-short wearers, but runners. *They must all be part of some jogging club,* I thought as my heart pounded out a drum solo that would have made Neil Peart proud. *I should really work on my cardio*. As my torso cleared the railing, we all fell into a pile on the other side. When I landed on my shoulder *(damn it)* there was an audible and physical sigh of relief from the crowd. For a few seconds, there was even a smattering of applause *(for my rescuers I’m sure, not for the crazy guy who can’t even fall off a bridge properly)*. I closed my eyes and just lay there, shaking from adrenaline, pain and exhaustion. I was tingly all over, my wrist felt broken, my shoulder was in agony, but I could still feel the crumpled twenty dollar bill in my pocket. It felt like a million bucks.