This was an assignment in my English class. We had read the story "Contents of a Dead Man's Pocket" by Jack Finney, and were given three choices for a grade. One of which is what is below, which was "Rewrite the ending to the story." And I did. My English teacher loved it, so maybe you all will, too.

If you haven't read the story, here's a link to it: (Link had to be broken because it wouldn't save properly)

www.is.wayne.
edu/mnissani/
20302005/Deadman.htm

I, in no way, own the story Contents of a Dead Man's Pocket. I only own the ending that I've rewritten.

Tom knew it before it happened. His gut just told him, "You're going to lose your grip, and you're going to fall." And then he did. It's funny, Tom thought. They say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die. Tom didn't see his life, he just saw the lights of the city as he went down. The wind ruffled his hair and clothing, and he found it funny that he was noticing every little detail that normally would have been overlooked. He saw everything around him, and felt like he was contected to all the sights and sounds and smells of the city. Then there was nothing as the cement sidewalk came up and caught him.

As Clare exited the theatre, she heard sirens a few blocks away. They didn't phase her; sirens were common enough in the city. She started her walk home and bidding farewell to her friends, and only became slightly concerned when she saw the red and blue flashing lights coming off of her street. She wondered if the elderly woman down the street had fallen again; the poor soul was alone now that her husband had passed away, with only her neighbors to help care for her. Clare saw that she was wrong when she rounded a corner and saw that all the commotion was in front of her apartment building. She hurried her pace and tried to break into the crowd to see what was happening, but the solid wall of bodies wouldn't allow her to.

A woman nearby was muttering about how unfortunate something was, and Clare quickly asked what had happened. The woman turned and her expression turned to one of pity when she saw Clare, and she pulled Clare into a warm embrace. Once released, Clare asked again what had happened. The kind woman tok Clare's hands in hers and slowly told her that Tom had either fallen or, as the police were saying, had jumped from the window to his death. Clare forgot to breathe. Her Tom? Dead? It couldn't be! She quickly forced herself to the front of the crowd, recognizing her neighbors as she pushed past them.

Once to the front, Clare saw a body on a stretcher, wrapped in a sheet, being loaded into an ambulance. She tried to run to it, knowing it was her beloved, only to be held back by an officer telling her to stand back. Tears were running down her face at a fast pace as she told the officer that that was her husband on the stretcher. The officer then quickly whisked her to a patrol car, where he made her sit and drink from a bottle of water to calm down. He expressed his utmost sympathy for the newly-widowed woman, then explained that she couldn't see him just yet.

Once Clare calmed down ,the officer told her that they had found a single piece of yellow paper folded in his pocket, and thought it was likely a suicide note. He handed it to Clare, allowing her to be the first to read it. The yellow paper was stained with red, and Clare almost dropped it then and there. But she pushed herself on. While she doubted Tom would commit suicide, she needed to know. She opened the paper to reveal, in Tom's hand writing, numbers. Lots of numbers, and few words. Tom's work. The work he stayed home to finish. She was utterly confused why, of all things, this would be in his pocket. The officer then took the paper from her, saying that it was still evidence. He slipped it into a small baggie, and then asked Clare some questions. Was Tom suicidal? Did he ever express, in any way, that he may not want to continue living? Was it possible he jumped? No, no, no!

After more questioning, Clare discovered she wasn't allowed to go home, for the police deemed it a crime scene for the time being to see if they could find evidence of any foul play, or a suicide note. So Clare instead went down the street and to the apartment of the old lady whose husband had recently died.