A friend invited me to a party last Saturday evening. I've been at his house once or twice, but I always have trouble finding it. Eventually I was on his doorstep.
The name on the door wasn't his. Lights were on in the living room, but nobody was there, and nothing inside looked familiar. I thought about stepping in to the nearby pub, seeing whether they had a phone book and calling him, but decided against it. I went home, feeling uncomfortable, yet guiltily appreciating having the evening to myself.
Later on I heard that he had been ill, and talked about ending his life. Other people were at his house, that evening, and talked to him.
I also realized that, when I was at his front door, I had his phone number and my mobile phone in my bag. I just didn't realize I had them. And I could have called.
I need to wake up.
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