Thing 30: A man jumps from the fortieth storey of a building. As he passes the 28th floor, he hears a phone ring and regrets that he jumped. Why?

Originally posted to Facebook on July 17th, 2013. Normally the next entry would be a story challenge, but as previously mentioned I messed up the numbering, so this was Thing 29. Regardless, I'm very happy with how this one turned out.

Preamble:
"Is it just me, or are these getting more complicated? Anyway, on to the story...

Note: According to my calculations (http://www.ambrsoft.com/CalcPhysics/acceleration/acceleration.htm), it would take about 4.95 seconds to reach the ground from the fortieth storey, with about 2.24 seconds of that time spanning the 28th floor and below. 2 seconds isn't a lot of time for regret."

Thing 30: A man jumps from the fortieth storey of a building. As he passes the 28th floor, he hears a phone ring and regrets that he jumped. Why?

A shiver ran down Marlon's spine as he gazed over the edge of the building. It was as high as he'd ever been, and the coldness of the air was shocking.

"How fitting," he thought, "that this cold is the last thing I'll feel."

He took a moment to let the sensation fully wash over him. He felt every follicle of hair raise as goosebumps appeared on his flesh; felt the tingling chill swimming through his blood. It was a frigid reality that he wanted to clearly remember as he met his end. It was a harsh reminder that the world was a cold, unfeeling place, and the numbness of his extremities was beginning to match that of his soul.

He took his phone from his pocket and let his steely gaze rest upon its screen. The device was as calm as he was. There were no calls, no messages, no notifications. It had a certain cathartic finality to it, reinforcing his belief that he was all alone.

He felt the slightest pang of pain stab his heart as he was reminded that she was not with him.

Marlon's brow tightened to a grimace as he stepped onto the roof's lip. His slow exhale filled the chill air with a soft cloud, causing a mist to obscure the screen of the phone still held before him. His thumb moved slowly, deliberately across the screen, wiping the mist away.

He silently counted the seconds in his mind, his eyes never leaving the screen. The phone sat quietly in his palm, having nothing to say despite the burning in Marlon's empty lungs. Each second fueled its growing smugness; its self-satisfied assertion that it was indifferent to its owner's plight. His anger deepened as the count increased, and he let it consume him. He focused his will onto the phone until his rage burned more fiercely than his starved lungs.

When he could take it no longer, he released it all at once. Through gritted teeth frigid air assaulted throat, the breath sending all of his senses into relieved disarray. He used the sudden intake to fuel his courage, and soon he was weightless, careening ever faster toward the unforgiving ground below.

Now it was just him and gravity.

He saw the stark visage of the clock of fate in his mind, and allowed its hands to take a single step closer to midnight.

Here, at 11:56, he shed his guilt. In this infinite space he let those he had wronged fade into obscurity. No longer would they haunt him. No longer would he be held accountable. There would be no justice save for that waged by fate itself.

Another step.

Here, at 11:57, he shed his happiness. Pleasant memories were meaningless here. There was no joy in punishment, no hope. The light had faded from his life a long time ago, and with the end so close it was only right that his gladness be properly laid to rest.

Another step.

Here, at 11:58, he shed his regret. All he had done, and failed to do, was tied to a past that no longer mattered. All that remained was the inevitability of what was to come.

As the hand groaned toward the next notch, the unthinkable occurred.

His phone rang.

Here, at 11:59, the simple chime echoed throughout his skull. Her name appeared on the screen, and the sight of it consumed what was left of his tired mind. All that remained was the name, and the chime. Tears were ripped from the corners of his eyes by the rushing air around him, leaving cold trails of anguish in the space before him.

Never again would he hear her voice, or see her smile, or feel comfort in her presence. Never again would her eyes pierce his. Never again would her warmth give meaning to his life.

His eyes closed as the clock struck midnight.