The Platform

We walked and I swallowed hard against the revolt in my throat. I would not make a spectacle. Not on this day. Deep breaths. Slowly. We walked but seemed to cover no ground. The stark platform in the distance was inevitable. The crowds that lined the street jeered us and blessed us. Time writhed around us, at times so far from reach that it seemed to have stopped only to turn and drive us toward our fate. This kind of walk cast the nature of life into stark relief. Focus has strange timing.

We arrived at the platform. Our footfalls drew creaking protest from the quickly cobbled steps. They were uneven. My breathing was ragged as I looked over the crowd that gathered. I recognized some of them. I wondered what thoughts were in their minds even as I took my place. The fibrous rope made me shiver. I looked away from the knots. How had it come to this?

The air stilled. Everything grew silent. I nodded once toward the sky.

Then I pulled the lever.