Algernon Blackwood,
Ten Minute Stories — Violence
“ He would fly into the place of rest, not sink or merely float; and he remembered the view from his bedroom window, high over old smoky London town, with a drop of eighty feet onto the pavements. Yes, that was the best way. He waited a moment, trying to think it all out clearly, but one moment the fish had it, and the next the birds. It was really impossible to decide. Was there no one who could help him, no one in all this enormous town who was sufficiently on his side to advise him on the point? Some clearheaded, experienced, kindly man?And the face of Dr. Hancock flashed before his vision. ”
