Hey, Zid!
I've most certainly heard of Tom Dooley.
One of my older brothers (now deceased) used to sing this song all the time.
http://kids.niehs.nih.gov/lyrics/tomdooley.htm
Sylvia
Through a Darkened Pane
by compound complex 730 Replies latest social entertainment
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ziddina
Well, well well, Sylvia...
I like the direction your "John Doe" story is taking...
More, more!!
Zid
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snowbird
ROFL.
John Doe was roused from his reverie by the clanking of chains as the guard opened his cell door. Time for his mid-morning walk around the prison perimeter. The guard averted his gaze as he manacled and shackled Doe's hands and feet.
The 15-minute walk was over almost before it began. The day, as prophesied earlier, was all too beautiful. Doe drank it in like a man dying from thirst before heading back to the cell to await lunch and a copy of the little town's newspaper.
His nose told him when lunch was on the way, also its contents - pepper steak, mashed potatoes/gravy, steamed carrots, and a huge kaiser roll. A frosty glass of sweet tea rounded out the meal which he ate absentmindedly while perusing the paper.
TBC ...
Syl
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BabaYaga
HA!!!! Oh, heavens, I just saw this!
Lordie, Sylvie, I wondered what your "I still love you, John Doe" thread was about!!!! Your wording is wonderful, I can taste, smell, hear and feel everything...
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snowbird
Tee hee hee.
Blister!
Sylvia
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snowbird
Oh, Baba, that was "I Still Love You, Minimus."
After the guard had removed his lunch stuff, John Doe went to the restroom, taking a long time. No use in rushing things; besides, his stomach was torn up, anyway.
He washed his hands thoroughly, thinking bemusedly, "What does it matter now?" Back to the cot and his thoughts - the afternoons were the worst; they stretched interminably.
He picked up another sheaf of papers which fell open to the 22 psalm.
TBC
Syl
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BabaYaga
~dOh~ well in that case I'm still addlepated, Dear Sylvie, but loving the John Doe tale, regardless.
Are you writing a Minimus execution story as well?
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ziddina
Aw, poor John Doe...
Even worse if he was convicted in the eras prior to accurate DNA evidence...
Which may explain why I'm still thinking of 'Tom Dooley'...
HIS conviction was "prior to the era of DNA..."
Maybe he was INNOCENT????
Zid
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snowbird
{Aw, poor John Doe... Even worse if he was convicted in the eras prior to accurate DNA evidence...}
He wasn't; don't worry; he'll be getting a last second reprieve, an 11th hour stay of execution, as it were. I know, spoiler, but I'm beginning to feel sorry for him.
{Are you writing a Minimus execution story as well? }
Perhaps, but I'll have to wait to see how this one is received.
Sylvia
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snowbird
Psalm 22:1 My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? why art thou so far from helping me, and from the words of my roaring?
He read the words dispassionately. After all, who had forsaken whom? Had not his grandma taken him upon her knees, read the Bible to and with him? Had she not taken care to teach him right from wrong?
In light of all of this, he tried manfully to resign himself to his fate, refusing to allow the E word to worm its way into his consciousness. As far as he was concerned, the E word for him had happened at his grandma's death.
He rolled onto his left side, facing the wall, and fell fast asleep. Next thing he knew, the guard was waking him for dinner, or as his grandma would have said, supper. His last supper! He'd given careful consideration to what it would be, and the cook had honored his request.
Pork tails smothered down in the trinity - bell peppers, celery, green onions - whipped sweet potatoes with lots of butter, rice and gravy, mile-high cornbread, ice-cold grape koolaid. His grandmother would have smiled her approval.
He ate slowly and methodically, sweet potatoes first, rice/gravy next, meat and bread last. Each mouthful was washed down with a generous slurp of the koolaid.
As he was taking his last bite, the guard startled him by barging into his cell, breathing heavily. Doe stared at him, not knowing what to expect. "Come with me."
Apprehensively, he held out his hands for manacling, but the guard hurriedly pushed them aside. "No need for that - just come!"
Doe followed him out, puzzlement and suspicion furrowing his brow. "Where are we going?"
The guard either didn't hear him or pretended he didn't. They headed toward the warden's office at a fast clip. The guard knocked, and not waiting for an acknowledgement, pushed the door open and herded Doe into the small room.
The warden stared at Doe from head to toe. "Mr. John Philip Doe, I've got some good and unexpected news for you. Pending investigation of corruption and cover-ups in the police department, the Governor has ordered a stay of execution for all inmates on death row. Beginning tomorrow, you will be placed in the regular prison population."
Doe's knees buckled; he had to be helped to a chair. The warden shook his hand. The guard hugged (hugged!) him. After righting himself with a mighty effort, Doe was led back to his cell. The guard, once again his reserved self, banged the cell door shut, looked long and hard at Doe and gave him a V sign.
Sylvia