Jason had already knocked the holes in the living room ceiling to gain access to the roof trusses that would supply a strong enough mooring to support his weight. Jason was good with rope. At least he would be able to perform the final act of his life correctly.

He left the bits of sheetrock and insulation scattered about the tiled floor. It would get cleaned up by someone eventually. It might supply some job security for another. After all, isn't it all about jobs these days?

Mechanically inclined by nature, Jason was a firm believer in preparation. He had stood on the chair and adjusted the length between the truss and the noose as carefully as he had tied his own tie on his wedding day all those years ago.The only thing left to do was to write the note. Everyone should leave a note. A note is an important part of the preparation. The preparation that would soon bring one life's journey to an end.

His was just another family destroyed by a slow and punishing downward spiral caused not by infidelity or abuse or illness, but by forces conjured by financially creative Gods commanding the lives of others from great buildings far removed from the colateral damage they cause. The monuments of glass and steel were constructed by the toil and sweat of laboring men as symbols of those same Gods’ power and authority over humans of minimal fortune. The Gods manipulate less powerful men to enact the laws that govern the masses. Laws that always tilt unfairly in the Gods’ favor. Compassion is never mentioned within the walls of the monolithic architectures for compassion is the enemy of profit.

No longer did it matter that Jason once owned and ran a small business that helped to feed three other families less fortunate than his own. It mattered not that he had played by the rules laid down by Gods that he would never meet, nor did it matter the nature of his once successful business. It was all gone now. Usurped by the greed of the deities of the financial industry leaving Jason with nothing but four wooden legs to temporarily stand on. His financial legs had been severed long before.

His wife and two children had left earlier that evening in the min-van that would be repossessed when the servants of the Gods caught up to it. Only eight coupons remained of the original fifty-four. Eight ration slips that would never be redeemed for the prize of titled ownership. Just another family dream crushed by the Masters of a souless industry.

I love you and will see you in the morning. One final untruth bestowed upon the family Jason had sworn on his mother’s grave that he would love and provide for. One last failure added to the list. He stood there alone, watching as the finality of his world faded along with the tail lights into the darkness of oblivion.

The large eviction notice had been posted to the front door for all to see by a sympathetic deputy the week before. A man genuinely conflicted by his oath to protect and serve and his orders to do the opposite. Seven days allocated to put one’s life in order while having neither resource nor prospect. Seven final numbers among a laundry list of numbers that add up to nothing. The deputy would return in the morning with court orders to remove the family that had already taken leave. There would be but one family member left to remove.

The lengthy letter Jason mailed to the local paper explaining the events that lead to his demise would reach it’s destination the following day. Within its words, the hope that it’s content might somehow change things for others approaching his own destitution.

The note that the deputy would find on the coffee table would simply read,

 I did my best.

Jason stepped onto his final perch and slipped the knot around his neck. It was a fine fit. Preparation is important. With eyes closed, he drew a deep breath and could still smell the aroma of pork and beans and macaroni that would prove to be his family’s final meal together.
 
Forgive me. With tears in his eyes and a prayer on his lips, Jason placed one foot under the edge of the chair and kicked it to the wall.