“It’s time,” his executioner said.
He knew he was paying the price for making prominent Athenian’s look like fools. His supposed crime; not believing in the gods of the state.
His wisdom, once sought after throughout the civilized world, did not save him from his fate. Justice and the pursuit of goodness led him to this last moment on earth.
He became the purifying remedy for Athens’ misfortunes despite his contributions to the state. The sacrificial goat. But he had the last laugh, eternal fame for his wisdom.
“Drink this,” the executioner offered, handing Socrates the cup of poison hemlock.
Luke, a hitman for mafia boss Sam Giancana, looked up at the School Book Depository building knowing Lee Harvey Oswald was inside waiting.
He was told Oswald was going to try and assassinate President J.F. Kennedy as his motorcade slowly drove by in downtown Dallas. They told him Oswald was going to be the false sponsor for the murder.
Luke checked under his trench coat, touching the Mannlicher-Carcano rifle briefly. Identical to the one Oswald had. No one noticed him blend into the tree line of the grassy knoll.
He waited until the time was right, took aim and fired!
Since the ghost first appeared while Jena was making herself dinner, she was determined to ignore it.
No such things as ghosts. Common knowledge. Still it was getting harder to ignore her dead husband who only showed up when she was alone. His appearances were becoming more frequent lately.
One day she decided the “ghost” might be her conscience. If so, it was a first. Even her family thought she was “calculating and cold-blooded.“
With restored belief there were no ghosts, she smiled the next time she saw him, even though he was holding the revolver she killed him with.
Don stopped typing and looked at the last passage he wrote about a horrendous murder in his hometown:
“The Burke family was slaughtered in their beds. Parents and the two children had their throats slit. No clues left behind. Investigators baffled about motive.“
As the lone reporter for the local newspaper he had to write about the murder. He didn’t want to sensationalize it, but the editor insisted. One side of his brain said tamp the story down. The other said quit worrying and do your job.
The last thing he wanted to do was bring unwanted attention to himself!
What a feast!
That top sirloin steak was the tastiest meat I ever did eat. Folks in the hills would be green with envy if they saw what I just finished packing down.
Beside that 16 oz. steak, I had a lobster, a baked potato, and some steamed collard greens with gravy on them. I followed that up with some rhubarb pie topped with vanilla ice cream. I have to say, it’s the best meal I’ve ever eaten.
And its the last meal I’ll ever eat. Crime don’t pay.
Go ahead jailer. Flip that switch.
I’m ready to meet my maker!