Saturday, September 26, 2015

Empathy for a doomed man

Noon came like it did every other day, but to James it may as well have been midnight.  Like always, he felt as though his stomach had turned to worms.  But today, the worms were livelier than ever before.  Makes sense, he thought dully.  This is my last day alive.

Before long, he heard the key turn on his cell door, which opened to reveal two guards.  He got up and walked with them past the jeers of prisoners and the stern glares of onlookers.  In no time at all, he was strapped to the chair and looking at the man who would pull the switch and end his life.  A rush of different emotions coursed through him like the rampaging rapids.  Memories flooded past his eyes, showing everything from his childhood to his horrible crime.  But he kept a stern face.

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