Twenty years on the crime beat, Frank always wanted to witness this. Now, he had to be here.
He watched the inmate gasp as the lethal drugs penetrated his arm.
“Time of death,” the warden announced, “6:09.”
Leaving the prison, Frank was approached by fellow reporter Seth, who’d also witnessed the execution.
“Got any comment?” Seth asked.
“No,” Frank growled, resolute.
“Help me out, Frank. How do you feel?”
“The punk killed my wife for $43. How do you think I feel?”
He walked away.
Tomorrow, Frank would quit the crime beat. It wasn’t the same anymore.