The Chair
The prisoner is nervous, fidgety. She glances at the man outside the cage. He looks down at her with a steady gaze. She looks at the guard. She’s standing, arms crossed, with her back to the woman. People filter into the room - witnesses, spectators, voyeurs. I make the final adjustments to the equipment, throw the switch. There is a loud buzzing that startles some of the onlookers. The air is filled with that distinctive burnt electrical smell. I fine-tune the settings, kill the power, and nod to the guard. ...