Execution

Dark, but not so dark you couldn’t see the crowd.

The shadow from the tree they‘d hung the noose from covered most of the condemned‘s face.

They led him to his execution, chanting.

This ends here.

This ends here.

This ends here.

The executioner, eyes shrouded beneath the brim of his hat, asked if he had any final words.

“I didn’t kill her,” he said, emotionlessly, “and if you hang me you’ll never know who did.”

They hung him. His left foot twitched, then nothing.

He was gone, and with him went his secret.

In time, the David Lynchmob dissipated.