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Death row stories: the first woman and the useless words

Stories and News No. 792

Despite recent pope’s plea against the death penalty in the US, as many important newspapers wrote, the first woman after 70 years was executed by lethal injection in the state of Georgia.
Kelly Renee Gissendaner was accused of the murder of her husband, actually killed by her lover.
Clemency bid by her children nothing got too...

Words are useless.
They are alone.
Every word.
You might write and tell.
Shouting to the crowd and muttering to yourself that you have the big, beautiful and profound ones.
Look, to avoid misunderstandings and against my own interest, I clarify it just now: so are the words you are reading here.
Worthless phrases.
You will stop here and I will understand. You're right, you had your reasons, we have all reason, if you think about it.
The fact is that a murder that becomes storytelling for the wide screen, like a love that contradicts the principles of the clearly established moral, is never stuff for a few actors.
I learned it from my grandmother.
Light came, people would have been up to go out but she stayed there and started to read, read everything.
The ending credits are important, she used to say. Otherwise they would have placed it at the beginning.
What can you do, that’s old school: distrust of the information from above and extreme attention to details.
Over time, a bit for emulation, I’ve got the same habit.
Reading everything.
All names.
Of those who have contributed to the show.
There is the actress who dies at the end, the hands that killed, and those who suffered the most.
But to reach the noble screen you need much more.
In no particular order, there is the van driver that carried the poison and there are of course the death row guards, there are the cleaners who washed away the mortal smell, the previous one.
There are, of course, the makers of the deadly mixture, the judges and the jury, witnesses and everyone who somehow feel to be.
There are, no surprise, all those who a long ago sang hymns to “eye for an eye”.
There are also the workers who, sheltered by an apparent unawareness, worked on the assembly line that has produced syringes and vials, glass for both, sheets and pillow to the bed, the bed itself and any other fragment that serves this purpose .
Killing the killer.
There is the last coiffeur who cut the condemned hair, the last chef that has cooked the last meal, the last person who made her feel guilty and the last look that read actual innocence in her face.
And with many other last instances of a life now strangled there are the first ones.
The first time she met her husband, the first day they made love, the first time they believed could do it forever and the first moment when they stopped to hope.
The first woman, the first one after 70 years has been sacrificed on the altar of the land of the free, as other words have called these days.
Nothing bad, I say to my advantage this time.
Words are so beautiful.
But the film's ending will always depend on those names in the closing credits.
My name is there and yours too.
We just need to read all once the light comes...

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