A Place on The Wall

He lowered his portly rump onto the lower level of the city park wall. A north wind was blowing, it was lofting the autumn leaves into little dust devils and it chilled him.

He had loved the spring time, with all the good smells in the air and there were speckles of red and yellow from the almost flowers. It had been a grand time to get laid.

These days he did not often wander out alone on a Saturday afternoon. Usually he was in the company of a dozen or so of his friends.
But today he was melancholy. He was feeling sorry for himself and that was an activity best savored alone.

Three young boys came by, they were laughing and chatting, one of them taunted him, "Watch out Fatty, you'll fall off the wall."

He was used to being mocked and paid little attention. Kids could be cruel.

The clouds were moving in, gray and threatening snow. They are just like my mood, he thought. It is November in my soul.

He had been quite cheerful in the past. But lately he felt somber, he jokingly told a friend that he had starred in the "this is your brain on drugs commercial."

Perhaps he should climb to the higher level of the wall for better vantage point. Shrubs grew up there and they would shelter him from the wind. Sometimes, from the top of the wall he could see the playground where the young chicks frolicked.
He labored up the steep steps that lead to the wall top.
I am a little too round for this type of climbing he thought, and wished that city maintenance had not removed the guard rail. There were loose stones on the wall steps he slipped and a couple of stones broke lose from the steps and fell hitting the sidewalk 10 feet below with a clatter. He nearly decided to turn back.
No guts no glory, he thought and pulled himself to the upper level, tugging on an over hanging branch.
He reached the top, breathing hard. He ignored the warning sign, "Danger Crumbling Stone," and took a seat on the wall ledge, his feet dangling over the side.
Because of the autumn chill the play yard was empty. Damn, no chicks, he leaned forward for a better look.
The wall ledge gave way and he grabbed the limb to pull himself back to the ledge.

He stepped back from the edge and puffed heavily. A strange feeling came over him. He had enjoyed the rush from the near fall. He looked over the edge, it was fully 30 feet to the sidewalk.
He could not survive such a fall, but it would be an end to his self hatred, the sleepless nights and the obsession about getting fried.

He closed his eyes, and just let the feeling surge through him. For the first time he owed no duty, no obligation to any phantoms of the nest.
He took 3 long breaths, and with a little running start, he jumped.

He was shattered by the impact.

The following day his demise was the talk of the town.

" Did you hear what happened to Humpty Dumpty? The poor bastard fell off the old park wall,"

" Yeah I hear that he was splattered all over the side walk"

" The Royal Medics responded but nobody was able to put him back together"

" Too bad. He was a good egg."