his spine snapped.
He's lying on the floor, small moans escaping his chapped and bruised lips.
He doesn't look quite comfortable, but all the same you wish you could contort yourself to sit like that.
The only thing he can manage to think is how he could have broken his spine better.
maybe he could have made his tumble down the stairs more realistic, with a crack resounding in the air just as the back of his neck slams into the edge of the fourth step from the concrete basement floor. A shot of pain should have passed across his face when his foot caught on the railing and ripped the tendons just behind his kneecap, instead of the first time he scraped his elbow on the brick wall.
Oh how that would look so much better in his movie.
And instead of being a klutz falling down the stairs, we'll insert the horny wife hurling him against the door and pressing her lips against his so hard that they bruised, her hand slipping on the doorknob and him helpless and offbalance taking his perfected tumble with voiceovers and retakes to get the facial expressions just right.
This would be after the break-in and murder of their two lovley children ages 5-9 blue eyes and blonde hair, cherub faces preferred.
No, that would be how the movie went.
Instead of just coming home drunk after a bar fight, lips bruised and chapped from being slammed into the cold metal pole of a stop sign.
Instead of having an eight months pregnant beer gut.
Instead of misjudging the distance between steps and taking a not so perfect tumble to his death on the cold concrete of his basement floor.
And when they find him two days and eighteen hours later, the rigor mortis will make the autopsy just right for the movie.
oh the movie will be a box-office hit....
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
