I Have a Rival
One day, after I had been badly hit yet again, my husband turned on the radio in the morning. NPR announced a sad death. the Park Ranger was dead. Chris said, "Oh, that is sad". The radio announcer gave his final tally: seven direct hits. This is ahead of my tally. I felt sadness for this man who didn't know me. I wished he were alive, for obvious reasons.
Then came the hammer blow: he committed suicide.
His note said he was tired of being hit by lightning and wanted peace at last.
Chris turned to me. I was crying silently. "I'm sorry. Now he is gone." Chris looked closer. "You aren't going to do this too, are you?" he asked suspiciously.
"No," I said. "I am going to live. If I want to die, all I have to do is stop dodging lightning bolts".