She dropped from a height of forty storeys. And as she spun down, through the air, past glittering windows and flowerpots - she thought, This isn't the way it happens it movies. It should be quicker.

She had thought that she would ram head first into the pavement, and her body - would be smeared across the pavement, bones and flesh turned into jam. She had imagined, with meticulous detail, the startled faces of the pedestrians, stunned to find a body hurtling towards them. She had imagined a young child, bursting into tears, hiding her face in her mother's skirts, while the mother turned deadly pale.

She had enjoyed it.

But now, she was worried - the normally busy intersection was bereft of people. No one would witness her self-slaughter.

Maybe I should have waited, she thought, until more people came out onto the street.

She sighed.

It was a bit too late.