She had the main road closed in both directions for most of the morning.
The little lanes and villages around the whole area were jammed solid.
There were lorries meeting lorries,
unable to pass down tiny country lanes,
people weren't getting anywhere this morning.
You should have heard them in the petrol station.
"There's a 'jumper' on the bypass on one of the over bridges! It's taken me ages to get to here,
and I've still got into the city yet and I have a very important meeting to attend! How inconsiderate!"
How inconsiderate that a woman had reached the end of her teather.
How inconsiderate that she decided she would take herself away from it all,
whatever 'it all' was,
and jump from a bridge into on-coming traffic.
How inconsiderate that she thought that to die was the better option than the 'hell' she was going through.
The 'jumper' was a person,
had a name,
a circle of friends,
it's just she had a life with which she was unable to cope.
This 'jumper' had had enough,
saw no way out,
so decided to end it all.
This 'jumper' was a woman,
this woman was talked down.