Chains

They led me in to the place of execution. The chain weighed heavy around my neck. This was to be the first execution since the new law. Society had deemed it was time to move backwards.

Beads of sweat formed on my forehead and on my cheeks. My palms were clammy. I could see the platform, erected especially for today. Heavier still, the chain weighed, almost pulling me down. I felt dizzy. This wasn’t right!

No matter what the crime, death was not the answer. I put my hand to the chain around my neck, expecting the feel of cold metal. But even that was warm, heated by my body.

Gentle hands guided me for the final few steps. I could hear the priest reading out the last rites and commending the souls, even of sinners unto the Lord our God. My mouth was dry. I was sure I would be sick, bringing shame on myself.

I heard a voice as the executioner stepped forward.

The chain around my neck again grew heavy.

“Mr Mayor, if you could just take your seat, Sir, then we can commence with the event.”

I slumped into the indicated chair at the front of the expectant crowd. My wife, the Lady Mayoress sat beside me.

My Chain of Office hung down, like a head bowed in shame.

The executioner stepped forward as the priest proclaimed his final words.

One push of the button opened the trapdoor.

I blinked sweat from my eyes as the five prisoners on the platform half disappeared and the swung lifeless, hanging like strange fruit in a southern breeze. The deed was done.

I hadn’t expected this to be my first official function when I had been elected Mayor of London.

Sadly, it was the first of many