Fiction

For a Sheep

I don’t know whether it actually happened. I have checked the internet and can find no evidence of it. Perhaps the records were destroyed, as the Selous Scouts and SAS ones were at independence. It was forty-eight years ago while I was at Salisbury University, and seemed an easy way to make some money. Someone had told me that the prison service was looking for witnesses to the execution of convicted terrorists and I thought about doing it. My memory is as clear as any half-century memory can be. The details are scanty but the essence pretty lucid. After all,…

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