Every Sunday morning, while the family's at church, I walk up to the mountain and climb the tallest peak and dance with the thought of somersaulting over the edge. Every Monday night, while the family's fast asleep, stomachs full from tv dinners, I float down the stairs and into the kitchen and imagine sticking my head in our unused oven. Every Tuesday afternoon, on my way home from school, I take a detour and pass the neighborhood train station where I toy with the idea of taking a nap on the tracks. I doubt I need to say more. You catch my drift, I'm sure.