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meg fowler tripp dot com
You are currently browsing comments. If you would like to return to the full story, you can read the full entry here: “a wretch like me.”.
All I could think about that day — while his body still lay uncovered on the sidewalk — was how obscene it was for so many total strangers to be privy to the fact of that poor man’s death, while his family were going about their regular day with no clue as to what had just happened.
Tragic.
Suicide is a very personal thing that I don’t understand. Perhaps in his death, he got visibility that he may have so greatly craved?