MicroHorror

The spit always burned. Like acid. And he knew what acid felt like; China started using it to exterminate dissidents in the mid-21st century. But he always hated when he was a pedophile. There was only shame in the execution.

The electric chair. He laughed. The two guards flanking him looked surprised, bewildered. He glared at them and returned to his thoughts. Well, at least it wasn’t a flaming stake.

Thinking back to all the times he made the same somber walk to oblivion, he wished it was the guillotine. He loved the guillotine; it was a clean, glorious death, and he got to be royalty.