what would be my last meal
if i was going to be executed the next
day.
what?
what crime did i commit, i ask her.
doesn't matter,
that's irrelevant.
wait.
wait a minute.
what possible crime would i do
that they would
put me in the electric chair.
she sighs.
oh brother.
just suppose, she says. just
imagine that you have one night
left on earth
and you can choose anything
you want for a last meal.
anything?
yes, she says, with exasperation.
anything.
hmmm.
maybe a standing rib roast
or tacos.
tacos?
yeah, i haven't had them in a while.
with hot sauce.
i stopped eating them because
of acid reflux, but
if i'm being executed the next day,
why not?
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