The Jump

He jumped.

No, not off a bridge. But you thought a bridge. And if you didn't think he jumped off a bridge you're thinking about it now. First, I'm controlling you. Second, you will always think about the worst case scenario.

The fact remains that he jumped.

Now you're thinking about something less serious. Maybe he's a basketball player and is taking a jump shot. Maybe he's a little kid who is bored and jumping on his parents bed. We all know that I am right. But that last bit is only because I'm controlling you.

You see how badly I need the power and the constant urge to tell you he jumped.

But, as I said before, he jumped. He jumped into the river and took a nice little swim. Of course he came out all muddied, covered in someone's feces, left over bag of chips, and empty cigarette pack. I know exactly what you're thinking--of course the cigarette pack is empty, because no smoker would leave a cigarette unsmoked before throwing the pack into the river.

Anyways, so he jumped into the river and took a swim. When he got out, the eyes of the city were on him, shocked that someone would be so ridiculous that they would throw all caution to the wind and swim through the Hudson River. At least the current was nice and strong that day to carry him all the way to Staten Island. Of course, only an idiot like that would come out the river on that lovely little island.

So he gets out and everyone is staring at him and he is being helped out the river. What a swim he had.

I know what you're thinking now too. You have no clue why I even wrote this story. You have no comprehension of why I am trying to control you with this stupid little boy who swam in the dirtiest river mother nature of made. Right?

Anyways, he had jumped off the George Washington Bridge.