The Doe
I admit to having stared adoringly into the eyes of my executioner as I died, Your Honour, but only because he happened to be bending over me at the time, observing me closely through the lens of his Nikon. He took up my entire field of vision, so of course he meant the world to me -- the world I so dearly loved and was now forced to leave... Ah, such a wrenching of the heart! Think of it! To have no choice buyt to love your assassin, simply because he is still athrob with life, because blood is still coursing through his veins, whereas your own heartbeats grow fewer and farther between... weaken... flutter... cease...
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