She walks out of her house every day at 7 am. Every day she walks to her black BMW , hops in and turns it on. Every day she drives 11.4 miles to work and parks in space number 5. Every day she walks up to her office and sits down in front of the same Dell computer, the same picture of her family, the same goldfish on her desk.
Today is not the same. Today she will not walk out of her house at 7 am, or get into her black BMW . She will not drive to work, or park, or walk up to her office. Today she will remain silent and still. Today she will not wake up. Today she will remain in her eternal slumber. Today friends and family will mourn the loss that is her. They will hold hands, and whisper prayers, and cry stories of the memories they have of her.
Today they will remember her monotonous life, and how she could have been so much. But now she is nothing but spirit and soul.
Today they will wonder why she drove off of that bridge, in her black BMW , leaving parking space number 5. Today they will pray she answers