The world around him was a blur of soft colors and indistinguishable shapes. Everything was so quiet up here. So peaceful and soothing. The wind licked at his face, and tugged at his clothes. Everything about it was fresh and new, oh how exciting! Mr. Eugene Barber laughed as he swallowed mouthfuls of fresh crisp air. For the first time in his long life, he was in control. It felt good! It was almost a shame it would be ending so soon.
         As he spun and whirled faster and faster, Eugene delighted in his impending doom. The seconds had seemed like lifetimes. Lifetimes that spanned an eternity from heartbeat to magnificent heartbeat. But time was quickly running out. He could see the end coming ever faster. He could smell it's cold damp odor--taste it's bittersweet flavor. In a moment he would feel it's rock-solid finality, and then he would feel nothing at all. Glorious!
         A moment before it arrived, Eugene could see his end. It was as clear as a picture framed neatly on the wall. The faces of the people, their mouths frozen in horrified screams. Screams which for an instant echoed in his head. The sun, the sky, the towering buildings all looked down on him in contempt. Jealousy? For they were doomed to a fate which lay out of reach. Shackled to something which they could not control. Much like Eugene once was, up until a few seconds ago when he broke his bonds and was finally free. Everything was so clear—so perfect. And then with a violent thud came darkness. He had won.

         Eugene awoke with little resistance from his aching body. It was like waking from a midday slumber. Quickly he realized that he had not won after all. He was still shacked to that cursed fate, the one which had guided his every move since birth. He was still attached to the strings from which fate dangled him like so many puppets. Oh what a cruel trick!
         He opened his eyes and saw the figure of a woman standing over him, her hands fluttering over his body like angry butterflies. Quickly moving here, there, turning knobs, pushing buttons, taking notes. Poking, prodding, injecting, but never stopping. She was too busy to see the patient staring up at her.
         "What are you doing?!" Demanded Eugene. His statement was accented by a bitter pounding of fists against the metal bed frame. His eyes glowed with the fire of hate, his voice was coarse and harsh. Startled, the nurse screamed and dropped her instruments. Stumbling backwards, she shivered in the corner of the room. Grasping desperately to keep her body from toppling.
         A moment later a figure appeared in the doorway. This time it was a man. Only his eyes were visible, everything else was masked by paper and plastic. He looked ridiculous. The figure froze at the sight of the man sitting up on his metal cot. His eyes, now twice the size they had been, darted from his notes to Eugene, from Eugene to his notes. He spoke not a word.
         "What are you doing to me?!" Eugene again demanded. He was now almost to his feet.
         "I'm sorry, Mr. Barber. I guess we just didn't expect to see you—what I mean is, we didn't expect you to be here so soon." The doctor entered the room and closed the door behind him. As he approached the table, Eugene saw the shaking nurse lower her still-trembling body into a chair. The man gathered himself and started over.
         "Hello Mr. Barber. I'm Doctor Nick Ruben, and that's your nurse Stacey. She's been a great help to me. She's the one that's been taking care of you since…since the incident. You know, you're lucky to be alive. That was quite a fall you took. For a man you're age…"
         Eugene interrupted with a snort. "yea….lucky"
         "It's amazing really. An eighty-two year old man takes a fifteen story fall, and a few days later he's alive and speaking! Amazing….simply amazing. Never have I seen such a thing…a miracle you might say." Eugene began to stand, but before he could the doctor stopped him. "Mr. Barber, if you please, stay on your bed. That was some fall you took."
         "Oh, I'm fine. I'm alright. Healthy as I'll ever be anyway. I assure you of that."
         The doctor placed his hand firmly on his patient's shoulder, "I really must insist that you stay. I haven't lost a patient yet. You're alive, but your insides are not strong enough to live on their own. Not yet." Dr. Ruben lowered his paper mask to reveal his brilliant white smile. His teeth looked as clean and sterile as the neatly worn white gown upon his back. "Now get some rest. Maybe if you're lucky you can be out of here by Wednesday."
         "If I'm lucky" Eugene grumbled, then laid back down heavily on the bed. The nurse gathered her things, checked the dials and gages on Eugene's bed-side machines, and left the room. Dr. Ruben quickly followed. Eugene closed his eyes, but before he could drift off to sleep a new voice filled the room.
         "Eugene? Eugene Barber? Is that really you?" The voice came from behind the turquoise curtain which divided the room. "Oh just wait till the guys hear this!" Eugene tried to ignore the man, tried to pretend he was asleep. But the voice continued.
         "Oh I've read all about you Mr. Barber. Quite fascinating, you're life that is. Oh lucky from the day you were born! Nearly three-months premature mind you! They never thought you'd live. Didn't even wager you'd make it through the night. But here you are. Eighty-two and still ticking." The man chuckled from behind his fabric wall, "The man who was born with luck as a twin, they say. On the way home from the hospital…that terrible accident. Took your mothers life instantly, your fathers a few days later. Oh but you….you were found not less than a hundred yards from the wreck. A newborn, with not a scratch on you! Oh how do you do it?"
         It was time for Eugene to speak. "Losing one's parents at such a young age, you call that luck? Ha! Hardly. Tragedy's more like it"
         "Ah yes" came the voice, a pitch lower than before. "But one's luck acts for he and he alone. And you were quite lucky to survive that. Then there was the great storm of '58! That fateful day, nearly a dozen tornados wrought death upon the Midwest. Your very school the target of one particular funnel. Many were killed; scores more injured. Yes, I've read about that day many times. A shard of glass, a shard the size of a full-grown man, tossed with all the force of the gods! It's razor-sharp edge whirling so close to you're head you came out looking like a new recruit in boot-camp! Ah, but not a drop of blood was lost. A few inches lower, and you would have left without your head!
         "And then there's the war. I didn't believe the stories at first. But they're true. Three times, your squad was ambushed. Three separate times, everyone was killed or taken prisoner! Everyone but you that is. Oh, luck must love you Mr. Barber. Yes it must."
         "Enough!" Shouted Eugene. "It is a baffling thing, it is. You lose a friend and it's a tragedy. You lose a dozen friends in the same stroke of fate, three times even, and it's luck? Bah!"
         Silence.
         Eugene continued, "Let me tell you something Sir. Luck is a funny thing. Everybody wants it, yet nobody understands it. Oh what I wouldn't give for some bad luck!"
         "I….I don't understand. You are the luckiest man alive! Isn't that a good thing? I just don't get it."
         "Of course you don't, no one does. You have no idea what it's like to live you're life without fear. Knowing that everything is under control, but not under your control. Nothing I have ever done has mattered. Nothing I do has consequence. For instance, look at my wife. Have you heard that story?"
         The voice behind the curtain picked up, "Oh boy, have I! A woman as beautiful as the sun! A woman who one night goes to a bar to meet a blind date. The same bar in which you yourself are meeting your blind date. There you two met, each mistaking the other for their dates. Soon you fell in love and were married. How different would you're life be had you two met the correct dates? Luck—"At the sound of that damned word, Eugene interrupted.
         "Every day since that very day I've wondered…I've wondered if she really loved me for me, or if it was fate which bound her heart to mine. How can I ever be sure it was love, and not destiny?…" His voice trailed off for a minute before picking back up. "…Last week, my estate topped two-million dollars. And you know something? Not a penny, not one damned crusty penny of it have I earned! Dog tracks and sweepstakes, stocks and inheritance… what kind of man makes his living like this? I have done nothing on my own, nothing to earn the right to those riches. Yet still they're mine.
         "….many good people have died, people much better than myself. More people than I care to count. Yet still I live. Why, I ask? Why me. Why do I deserve to live, while others die? These thoughts haunt me. Plague my every-night. Oh how I have grown to despise fate! To hate this hand which guides me helplessly through life. Oh how I yearn to be free, free from this 'luck'. This damned thing which has left me empty for all my years."
         So you see, this is why I tried to end my life. I wanted to finally take control. Finally do something of my own will. Something that would be truly mine and mine alone. But alas, fate is not such an easy foe to beat. For it is all-seeing and all-knowing. Invincible in it's power. And so fate continues to crush down upon me. To use me to it's own liking. And I stay powerless to fight it's will. Unable to untangle myself from it's cruel web!"
         Eugene paused to catch his breath. He took a moment to let the blood which boiled and surged through his temples to subside. Then, with a voice as cool as ice, he concluded, "Luckiest man on earth…. oh how I hate that moniker. My life, it's nothing but an eighty-two year old accident. Yes, that's what I am. Yes, the Accidental Man…the accidental man…." His final thought trailed off to a solemn sigh. Then there was silence.

         The next morning, Eugene was awaken by a sudden commotion. He listened to the voices behind the curtain. "Oh how terrible. How tragic" said one of the voices. A moment later an orderly, the doctor, and the young nurse pushed through the curtain. The two men wheeled a body out the room and down the hall. Eugene could only assume it was the body of the voice with which he had spoken only a few hours prior.
         The nurse saw Eugene watch as the body was wheeled away. Quietly she came to his side. When she spoke, her soft voice was full of sorrow.
         "His…his respirator went out during the night. Something with the electronics, they were old. You know something though? That was supposed to be your machine. Had Mr. Saunders not admitted himself but five minutes before you arrived, that machine would have broke down on you…. that would be your body being wheeled to the mortuary. You know, you're a very lucky man…."