SPIRIT HELPER

She stands outside the window of the sixth floor block of flats.

A passer-by looks up in horror, and puts his two shopping bags on the pavement. "Don't jump!" he shouts.

"My life is pointless," she cries.

"No, it's not," he replies, "You could clean the flat's windows, they're a right dirty mess, or you can give me a hand with my shopping."

"You can handle your shopping; there are only two bags."

"But my arms; ooh, they're not what they used to be. I'm just not that physical anymore."

"At least you've got your emotional stability," she answers.

"OK, but how about if you jump off, don't die, but end up breaking loads of bones and being is pain for weeks on end?"

"That won't happen," she calls.

"Won't it?" he shouts. "If you're so down on your luck, I'd say it's highly possible you could do yourself some damage. Even worse, you might fall on my shopping and crush my tomatoes, then I would be upset."

She laughs.

"See," he calls, "You can't deprive the world of your sense of humour!"

Her smile overcomes her tears. She gets back in through the window, and rushes down the staircase to thank the man for lifting her sadness.

But as she walks out of the entrance, the man is nowhere to be seen.

11 October 2005