Before I wake

Before I wake

AnAnneFraiserstory lo.

In thirty minutes the hooded executioner would administer the initial injection of sodium pentothal. If this were a movie, it would be time for the camera to cut back to the black phone on the wall.

If it were a movie.

Every now and then, one of the occupants of the witness room glances at the phone. As if by some kind of silent, primal signal, other eyes automatically follows. It wa ssomething that couldn't be helped, even though every person there was all but certain the phone would never ring.

This was Virginia. Virginia made it tougher than any other state for a death row inmate to win an appeal. Virginia was also quick to administer the death penalty, not believing in allowing an inmate to languish in prison.

Albert french, the man strapped to the table on the other side of the thick glass, had been found guilty for the murders of a Virginia couple. It wasn't his only claim for fame. He'd committed murder in three other states-- that they knew of. Virginia just happened to be the best place to get his punishment dealt with quickly and effiecently. Some thought, a little too efficitly.

special agent Nathan Fury had hoped for a delay while the U.s. District Court reconsidered its decision to allow the execution to be webcast. It wasn't just that Fury disapproved of turning the execution into sport and entertainment; he also worried about the impact of channeling a madmans last minutes of life into private residence worldwide.

At the very moment, homeviewers were watching a pretty blond reporter, Microphone in hand, standing just outside the prison gates, counting down the minutes until they switched to the death chamber camera.

DickClark'sRockin' Eveonacid

Most of the twenty-five witness chairs were filled. People stood arkwardly in the back of the room, arms crossed, staring straight ahead as if the glass were a movie screen.

someone bumped Fury's arm.

He pulled his gaze from the man on the table to a priest dressed in a black robe and clrical colloar standing beside him. Fury had never seen him before.

The priest shook his head. " The medium is the message. That's what it's come down to. who said that" the priest asked. " The medium is the message"

" Marshall McLuhan," Fury told him. " Prophetic, wasn't it?"

" People say its their constitutional right to view an execution, but they're wrong. I don't even know why they are wrong," the priest said," The way I see it, a man soesn't have to know the reason. That's why we have a conscience. So we don't have to sit down and hammer it out, look at this view and that view. If something is wrong, you feel it-- here." He poked at his stomach. " in your gut."

" My mother was afraid it would be on tv and she might stumble across it while channel surfing," Fury said," I told her it could only be view on her computer, and that she'd have to order it special," He grimaced. Special. what would that look like on next months credit card bill? Something like kill Al, $19.95.

Sick.

The priest kissed the cross that hung around his neck and moved to a reserved front-row seat.

French had refused a visit from the clergy, The priest was probably hoping for a last minute change of heart so he could administer absolution. If not, he would still pray for the murdering bastard.