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    Suicide by Motorbike
    Suicide by Motorbike
    Suicide by Motorbike
    Ebook18 pages18 minutes

    Suicide by Motorbike

    By Thomas Martin

    ()

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    About this ebook

    "Suicide by Motorbike and other related stories" is an intricately woven ebooklet of flash fiction and short stories.

    It is callously violent, oddly introspective, and obsseses with suicide and death.

    Carthartic for the author, enlightening for the reader. Hauntingly true to life.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherThomas Martin
    Release dateJan 24, 2010
    Suicide by Motorbike
    Author

    Thomas Martin

    Have a crazy side? Read the book!Who was your last text from? Home.What is your current mood? Introspective.What color shirt are you wearing? Black and white wool sweater thats more of a hairshirt its so scratchy.If you could go back in TIME and change something, would you? Not personally but historically, of course.What do you usually order from Starbucks? Tall Dark Roast No Room.Ever had a near death experience? Yes.Describe your life in one word: Biography

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      Book preview

      Suicide by Motorbike - Thomas Martin

      Suicide by Motorbike

      And other related Stories

      Thomas Martin

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyright Thomas Martin 2010

      This eBook is licensed for your personal use only.  It may not be re-sold or given to other people. If you are reading this book and you did not purchase it please do so at Smashwords.com or  other reputable bookseller. Thank you for respecting the hard  work of the author and the distributor.

      But I alone am aimless and depressed. I am different.

      —Tao Te Ching, Lao Tsu  

      Prologue

      I fell like my chest falls after a deep breath, like a smooth stone on shallow water— repetitive and painful (her issues were greater than my own.) I felt I was drowning in shallow water—gasping. I was bloody and wearing only plaid boxers. She was wearing a  thinly veiled threat— more mesh than lace.  She filled my cup ‘til I said when. I was waking to the sound of her filling my cup. As if she didn’t know. I said when.

      We sat and talked. I told her about the time I bought a book and painted every page white, and used it as my journal.. And how I filled the pages with a list of words that I planned to use someday. I’d paint it again if I had the chance.

      I didn’t catch her

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