“The train arriving at Platform Five is the London Express.”

My heartrate spikes at the automated announcement. I step forward, feet crossing the yellow safety line. Horn blares; the column of air pushed ahead of the train ruffles my hair, dries my tears.

Timing is everything.

I waver.

Perhaps tomorrow.

Born in Dublin, Ireland, Kerry spent most of his life in the UK, and now lives in Brittany with his long-suffering wife of thirty-six years. Three children, three grandchildren, no pets. Contact him on Facebook.

Editor’s Note: A topic like suicide is something I am very, very careful about. I didn’t want this story to contribute to any reader’s feelings of depression or despair. The beauty of this story is in the last four words, which carry an incredible depth of emotion and range of interpretation. I hope these words inspire you to reflection and discussion. What is your “perhaps tomorrow”?