Stories tagged suicide

Gin And A Cowboy: Redux

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“Sitting here ascertaining the meaning of life.”


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Palms planted firmly against his temples, Travis paced the room like a caged animal. Giant black bats screeched in his brain, their pointy wings scraping at the edges of his cranium.

What Could It Mean?

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“Are you familiar with the Mammalian Diving Reflex?” “Yes. When the face comes in contact with water below the temperature of, what, 60 degrees—”

Krissi Jo Irving's Unique Suicide

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Krissi Jo Irving decided in early September that she could not go on living. She was tired of the wheelchair. She was tired of the soap operas and game shows.

Headstone II

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There was a memorial on the Berkeley Pier where you liked to fish.

The Suicide Lie

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I’m a suicide prevention counselor for teens. Most of the time I answer phones and tell kids not to kill themselves over their boyfriends and girlfriends and drugs and rock ‘n’ roll, etc. I’m not even sure what the number is—1-800-DONT-DIE or something li

Woman, Running Late, in a Dress

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Gasps and shouts, a hand on my arm, sequined gowns and expensive colognes parting before me. And then, there, Raymond’s crumpled form on the hardwood floor of the foyer, like a sleeve torn from a jacket, the stitches frayed and useless.

Suicide Draft

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So, dear world, whose dearness I have never truly known, I bid you adieu.

A Tale of Two Writers

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A famous author and an inspired writer meet at a coffee shop, both looking for inspiration. The patrons there don’t know if this meeting is by accident or design, but they are in awe of Fame.


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"Mommy is going to learn how to clean the oven," I said to my son. I was really talking to my husband. Unhappy spouses do that. They put on a show in front of the kids.


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...she sets aside her cane and reaches up to weigh a giant pupa in her palms as it hangs clustered with its mates, fantastic table grapes depended from a trellis on the ceiling.

Gemma's Story

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I respect mom, she survived cancer and all while she was pregnant with me, but something about getting through all that crap made her heart tough, like an over-cooked piece of beef, and no one likes meat you have to chew forever.

How to Meet and Dance with Your Death (Como encuentrar y bailar con su muerte): A Cure for Suicide

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This was told to me by an old Curandera, an India from Brazil whom I met in the Yucatan. She gave me this recipe and cautioned me that it could be done once, and only once. To meet and dance with your Death, take: 2 gallons of pulque…

X, Chapter 4: The Median Happy Point

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“Now, touch the tree from here.” Alex looked at him, puzzled. Dad just motioned his eyes back to the tree, extended his own hand out into the air, and slowly moved his palm down, as if he was petting it.


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No one would have picked me out of a crowd as the morbid one, but it was true that thoughts of easy exits floated through my consciousness regularly. I did my research—the easy methods, painless, guaranteed methods—and felt prepared to do, well, w