Involution

Not a rumour in the dark.

His hands were behind his back, the wrists bound with a cord.A man stood by a whitewashed wall in southern Alabama.

He faced the firing squad and closed his eyes in order to fix his last thoughts upon his mother.

Striking through the thought of his dear mother was a sound which he could neither ignore nor understand: a sharp, distinct metallic percussion like the stroke of a blacksmith’s hammer upon the anvil. They hurt his ear like the thrust of a knife, he feared he would shriek. What he heard was the ticking of his watch.

The soldiers were at “parade rest”, the butts of their rifles on the ground, the barrels inclining slightly backward against the right shoulder, the hands crossed about the stock.

He saw his mother holding his hand and taking him back to his home town. They passed through the dirty streets and saw a dead dog on the berm.

Further away they heard the hue-and-cry of some teenagers fighting for a joint of marihuana.

She laid him on the bed. Daniel stretched out and closed his eyes again.

A lieutenant stood at the right of the line, the point of his sword upon the ground, his left hand resting upon his right.

A doctor completed the scene.

Death is a dignitary who when he comes announced is to be received with formal manifestation of respect, even by those most familiar with him.

The man who was about to be shot was apparently about thirty-five years of age. He had a kindly expression which one would hardly have expected in someone whose life was at stake.

His features were good –a straight nose, firm mouth, broad forehead from which his long, dark hair was combed straight back, falling behind his ears to the collar of his well fitting frock coat.

Evidently this was no vulgar assassin.

The soldiers pointed directly to the body.

The night was darker than usual and he wanted to find a star, but the narrow window of the cell barely allowed him to see a tiny piece of sky.

He raised his head. His mother adjusted the pillow.

All of a sudden, he started bleeding from the chest.

The shirt with the inscription of his inmate number got tainted with blood.

The mother noticed that her son had urinated on himself; she raised him and took him to the bedroom. There, she changed the lower part of his pyjamas.

The soldiers dissolved the firing squad.

The lieutenant ordered the doctor to certify the death.

The mother kissed him on his cheek and closed his eyes to sleep at last.

The doctor observed with astonishment the bundle lying on the floor, by the wall.

The criminal’s body had been reduced to a four year old.