The deadman steps down from the scaffold. He holds his bloody head under his arm and pauses thoughtfully, staring at the big piece of metal that just fell off the roof. So stupid, so quick, so final. All he did was look down, at a beautiful blonde whose breasts strolled on the sidewalk, just in his line of sight. All he did was look down, and that was all that was needed for the chain reaction to start; the roof tile slipped, bouncing off the insulation foam and smashed against the metal railing. It, in turn, fell on top of the metal canopy, flinging a sharp plate straight at his neck. It was instantaneous, he didn’t even feel it.
He should have known, though. His wife always told him all these women would make him lose his head.
He should have known.
* * *
This was a class exercise, where we were given the first sentence only (in bold) and had to finish the story.