As I stood on the building I dared to entertain the idea, envisioning flashes of what my death wish might birth, this building could be a monument of my final sins. "Two minutes"

Every other person was too busy admiring the architecture, it was a pale yellow, somehow the color seems to change the farther you are from it, I looked down and whispered under my breath so softly even I could barley hear "2 minutes". its not the worst of ways to go, might be more peaceful than slitting my wrist, that hasn't seemed to work, someone always seems to walk in.
"Two minutes", depending on how it happens, it could be  far less or longer, I take one last breath and admire the view. "Two minutes"

The air was dry as it was that time of the year, the roads underneath were strangely quiet for this time of the day, the sun was warm and the clouds were scarcely stretched, the riverside tower looked a lot smaller in comparison than I thought it would, but then again this was always supposed to be the closest to the clouds, for now at least, the mayor said bigger things are to come. "Two minutes"

This is not a story of triumph, nor a seedling of hope, this is but a beautiful end to a catastrophical life.
My name is Stan and this is the story of my end.