![]() ‘You want me to write?’ he said, his voice little more than a rasping sound. Was he such a coward that he couldn’t even look into the eyes of his executioner? His gaze focused on my chin and I felt a surge of anger. He looked up at me again, but without making eye contact. ![]() His hands were shaking violently as he unfurled it and read. So he picked it up and removed the small piece of paper wrapped around it with an elastic band. The man smelt of sweat and urine and something else, something that I knew instinctively was the stench of fear, some primitive chemical signal sent out by his body. I had a strange sensation of time slowing down like every second lived lasted a minute. ![]() ![]() I was acutely aware of every sound and every movement. I’d read somewhere that during extreme stress all your senses go into hyper drive. I could smell his fear and I hadn’t expected that. Other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including thisĬondition being imposed on a subsequent purchaser. Nor can it be circulated in any form of binding or cover Written permission of the copyright owner. ![]() No part of this publication may be stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted inĪny form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise, without prior ![]()
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