Martin Dender finally found his talent. A talent that would probably make people laugh, but was also entirely useless. And not the kind that you'd want to show off to your friends. Martin Dender, on the day he tried to commit suicide, found out that he could hover -if only for a few seconds - by farting.

8:59am:

Martin walked into his office and sat down behind a large grey desk. The desk was littered with with several scraps of paper and a daily schedule. The area was cordened off as a cubicle, and Martin had previously hung up a few travel pictures of him and his ex wife along the walls.

Martin skulled back the long black in his hand.He still felt tired though, it would take two more of these to get any kind of caffeine kick.

"Oi! Martin."

Martin groaned and turned toward the voice. "Morning Jed, how can I help?"

"My office, now!"

Fucking prick. "Sure thing," Martin said. His bosses office was lavish to say the least, there were plenty of certificates on the wall, a put put station in the corner and a view overlooking the city.

"Have a seat," Jed said.

Martin made himself comfortable and waited in silence.

"I'm sorry Martin, but we're going to have to let you go."

4:50pm:

Martin peered down the hole of an empty bottle of Jack Daniels. Not a drop left, so he flicked it from the roof ledge and watched it smash into shards below.

He looked up at the sky, milling over this final decision. And at that moment, a shooting star passed through the muddy orange canvas. Martin made a wish, and for the first time that day, he smiled.

And then stepped forward.

4:52pm

The ground rushed up from below. His scream flying up with what felt like his soul. And in the last second, his bowels erupted.

Martin felt himself bounce in mid air, off of the air itself. He farted again, and slowed his fall.

Martin's feet touched the ground and he looked at the glass around him. A smile spread across his face once again.

Martin looked up at the sky. "When I wished to be remembered, I didn't mean like this!"