An Attempt to Double-Escape

“The guard brings him his food,” he tells himself. “His last meal in this place. He hopes that he is wrong, and religions and afterlife and heaven are right. Then he might get another meal. He eats his food, quite slowly, trying to enjoy the taste. It tastes better than before. Perhaps the cook has taken pity on him. Or perhaps it’s because he needs at least one good thing, and his mind is playing tricks on him.” He puts down his plate. “Time for him to lie down and wait for it to end. He tries to remember his life, but it seems like they were wrong. One doesn’t flash back at death.” He struggles a bit. “Seems like the poison is working. Hard to get it to the cell, but worth it. He’s feeling some pain and dizziness. He moans. But he’s trying to keep it down. The guards can’t save him now of course, but he needs his peace. His vision is getting blurry. He finds it hard to keep his eyes open. He doesn’t try much either. It’s probably the end. At last the agony will go away for him. He can feel death.”

At night, the guards find his body with the empty plate beside him. In his hands, they see a book and after the initial confusion and calls for help, they look inside the book and find that it is one of Oscar Wilde, with an open page in which is marked a line. “To become the spectator of one’s own life, as Harry says, is to escape the suffering of life.”

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