They herded round. Everyone loves a good hanging, don’t they? It wasn’t as if there was lack of entertainment; this was the fourth one today. Obviously someone had been busy. Or someone high up wanted to keep them busy. You never question those in authority, do you? Not today.

The girl, Alexandria, couldn’t have been more than ten years old, and she’d hated the way her friends had offered her up so quickly, red paint smudges on the blue gingham dress. Now she was almost in tears.

“I need a wee” the young girl timidly stated. Gallows humour, perhaps.

“One last chance, Alex. What’s it to be?” the executioner tormented.

The noose around the neck, the rope taught, so close now. The crowd leaned forward as a deafening silence drummed out the death beat. With a mumble, always the shy kid, Alexandria searched the faces, finally spying her best friend. A simple exchange of nods.

“I’ll go for a ‘P'” she stated firmly. Definitely not intended humour this time.


With a swift hand, the executioner finished her off, pencil to paper, the last line drawn.

“Hangman!” the boys shouted in unison. Three-one to the girls, but the boys were back in the game.

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