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The condemned man smoked a cigarette with his executioner and in the short time they had together they had become friends. The subject of blame was not discussed. Neither one held the other responsible. Nor was guilt a commodity they cared to exchange, of little value now, something they both chose to bury. They spoke gravely about the past, the killings they had caused, and wondered how it had changed them. They decided it had prepared them for the moment. An illicit grin escaped from each face as they snubbed out their cigarette and walked away from the mirror in separate directions.

Excerpt from Light-Years in the Dark: StoryPoems (see more)

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photo-art design by todd crawshaw

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