I die, struck by lightning while pulling weeds in the garden during a rainstorm.
I run off and live, solitary in some place truly rural, coming out only each saturday for coffee at the local diner.
Success (and technical support) make me cynical; I hate the world, and slowly become an evil business person.
I finally experiment with a few drugs, decide I like them and live in a fantasty world only I can see, and I eat mostly junk food.
I fall down the stairs; paralysed, I spend my time studying physics and higher math. I make bets with Stephen Hawking, but he writes the proofs even for the ones he loses.
I move to a small farm just outside of Portland. I spend most of my time trying to fit more food in a small space, and the remainder fighting slugs.
I give up on rural living entirely, but I can’t find good chilis, so I spend time growing peppers in pots on my rooftop. I spend lots of time floating from hotspot to hotspot, and being cynical and hip.
I decide to hike the Appalachian trail. I like it so much, I hike the Pacific Crest trail. That goes well, I decide to make a life of it, and make a life of raising money by walking places.
I start a political career, and eventually become a state legislator, after suitable time in law school. I become disenchanted with the system, and begin anew, thirty years later.
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