Thwwaacckk!

TTHHWWAACCKK! RRRRRRRR pop! the familiar sound of Mademoiselle le Guillotine when her blades land on her intended target. The basket always at the ready to catch the thief.

These are my days now. Watching the executioner clean the blade, sharpening it until it gleams in the sun, like a diamond on the Kings crown. He slowly moves the blade back into its home, making sure the bindings flow smoothly.

"We do not want an accident", he says, "It is important that everyone who is sentenced to Mademoiselle live their last day in dignity."

Aye, we have witnessed all too often, when the blade was not prepared properly. Ohhhh, I shudder to think...

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The kingdom wasn't always like this. We had unicorn season when the herds would appear; always coming to drink in the water trough, after it had been filled with rainwater. The successful crops were celebrated under the rainbows; dozens and dozens filled the sky with prisms of color, the stars reflecting each color as they began to shine. We danced, we sang, we drank in the glow.

My family were important in this town; my loving husband was the town blacksmith; everyone came to him, including his Majesty.

I was the town baker. Everyone came to me for bread and cakes. I was never so pleased as when the elders would pay me in gold coins.

Now, our village is in hard times. I had to give out the loaves for free. We are hungry and dirty now; the gold coins no longer have a value. There is no further need for blacksmiths; the unicorns no longer roam free.

We had many mouths to feed; our young ones had been going to the royal academy for schooling. Now, the academy has closed down. We do not know where our children are. I long for a message from them. I pray every day but to no avail.

My husband was taken from me long ago. He was forced to fight in the King's army. He begged and pleaded with our new King. He had no choice but to run away. We both knew that if he were caught, his head would end up in the basket.

Three months ago, he was found. The soldiers dragged him back. He was sentenced to wearing a Hairshirt and had been dipped in tar, but he still lives. He is in the tower and has been charged as a traitor. He will not be there much longer. He grows weaker every day. He is allowed gruel and a small flagon of wine which had soured long ago.

As a traitor's wife, I have been sentenced to help the executioner. I clean the stone; I help to mend the linen covers and help the victims dress in the simple overshirts they wear as they are loaded onto the executioner's wagon. I try to clean the prisoner's before they are put on the wagon. As the executioner said, they must have their dignity.

Six months have passed. It is a routine now. I awaken early. I go to the dungeon with the list of the prisoners who are meeting the guillotine and prepare them for their journey. We are calm, quiet and exchange sympathetic glances carefully for if we are found to be communicating with the prisoners, we will be next.

On the second day of this week, I awoke as usual. I finished my gruel and tea and put on a clean chemise. I picked up my list of prisoners for the day and as I got to the bottom of the list, my heart sank. I dropped the list and began to cry. The guards came over and asked me why.

"I, I am sorry, your honors' I stammered " Today is the day my husband must go to La Guillotine, and I was not prepared."

The guard stated" You will suffer the same fate as he if you do not cooperate. Go and do your duty or I shall report you to the king."

"Yes, yes. I shall do my duty..forgive me. I meant no harm." I staggered down the long dark corridor, being careful not to get bitten by the rats that had made the dampness their home; nibbling on the toes and fingers of the prisoners who were too weak to step away. Ages later, I reached my husband's cell. We glanced at each other. I handed him a clean wet rag through the bars of the dark cell. He took the rag and weakly kissed my hand.

"I shall always love you, my dearest. " He said weakly. He removed the hairshirt and replaced it with a clean, linen overshirt I gave him. His hair had been shaved off by the executioner earlier in the morning so as to have a clear view of how he should be angled so the blade can pierce with one pull. As he was led out of the cell by the guards, I had to remove anything the prisoners left behind. I removed the waste in a bucket and put the hairshirt in the bin for the next prisoner. The hairshirt was not allowed to be cleaned. The hair that was shaved from the prisoners' heads were added to the hairshirt each time. It got heavier and became a burden to each one that had to wear it. I looked around; the guards were not looking so I placed some of my husband's hair in a locket I had hidden in one of my pockets. When I finished tidying the cell, The guard came to inspect. When he was satisfied, I was allowed to go back to my dreary little chamber. I threw myself on the sleep pallet and began to cry softly. One of the house maids took pity on my and brought me a cup of tea. I was very grateful as she could have been locked in the tower for that.

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The executioner came to me and said "You will not have to assist me today. I will do the preparation myself. Rest, lass. Know in your heart that it will be done mercifully and quickly. I must go now. " I thanked him and tried to stop crying.

I looked at the crowd. They were booing and shouting

" Traitor! Traitor to the king. Long live the King" they chanted. I saw, for a moment, the way our kingdom used to be. I saw the unicorns and the rainbows and the good king that had been taken away from the kingdom. I saw all of our children playing in the fields after the rain. They were laughing as they tried to chase the rainbow prism that kept changing colors when the sun shown on it. I sighed. I felt dizzy and tired. I looked at the crowd. They had the blood lust in their eyes. I tried to speak but no words were made. I tasted the salt and the warmth and suddenly I could not breathe as blood filled my nose. I saw the executioner look down at me to make sure I was not in pain. I looked at him and tried to say "Thank you for your mercy" but no words came.

The last sound I heard was "TTHHWWAACCKKrrrrpop". I saw my head in the bucket and slept as the darkness descended.