The Last Meal
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way--in short, the period was so far like the present period that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only." A Tale Of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
Stanley slept fitfully that night, tossing and turning, vivid dreams dancing in his sleep, dreams of steaming bowls of biscuits and gravy, bacon and eggs and mugs of coffee with cream.
After so many months of bland food Stanley was up early, eagerly anticipating his breakfast. He had been allowed to order anything he wanted and he had ordered a large spread, sparing nothing, "extra gravy" he had ordered.
He got up early and knocked impatiently on the door "bring me some coffee, real cream please, not that Coffeemate crap and keep it coming!"
As the steaming mug of coffee arrived he held it in his hand savoring the moment, breathing deeply of the stimulating coffee aroma, "aahh this is the life he mused."
"Tell the cook to start my breakfast" he orders, I want to start with the tall stack of pancakes then bring the rest of the stuff."
Stanley grinned gleefully as the guard scowled and grimaced resentfully at having to take orders from and serve his poisoner. Later this morning the guard would be back in charge and would tie his hands and lead him up the scaffold to the gallows but for now Stanley was in charge, he was enjoying the moment and living large.
“Knowing that nothing is forever, we lived in the moment living as though there was no end.”
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