"You're eyin' up tha' dook somethin' fierce boy. Penny for ya thoughts?"

He was sat on a very out of place looking wooden chair, dressed like an old sailor or lighthouseman might. His accent was thick and I was surprised he'd even noticed me looking at the dock, as he was sat reading a book and his head hadn't even turned toward me.

As I stared into the water, I considered why I'd chosen to do it this way. Why drowing. The reasearch had said it was the most peaceful way to go. But I also didn't want to do it in any old resovoir, part of me wanted to see something beautiful, before it finally ended.

So this old bloke bothering me while trying to pick a spot to jump from was definitely killing the 'last image of something beautiful' vibe.