As suicide methods go, it wasn't a bad one:
he took the cheesy plastic hand grenade
and replaced it with a real one
its pin tagged with a gaudy red number 12
on the plastic stand cheerily mocking every walk-in
"Complaints Department: Please, take a number"
He sat quietly at his desk
in the kind of clothes they'd bury him in
waiting for someone to realize the truth
through experimentation.
Curiosity, he theorized
would kill more than just the cat this time.
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