The heavy chains clinked rhythmically as he trudged into the yard. The sweet smell of burning meat hit his nostrils sparking a pang of nostalgia. He recalled those lazy summer days at the ranch; kids laughing and playing ball, enjoying a cold beer with friends as he tended the barbecue. Hard to believe he’d never enjoy that again.
He picked out the grill through the shimmering heat. His was an unusual request for sure. Most death-row inmates ate their steaks indoors in the jail canteen. Ten years of exemplary behaviour afforded him special privileges with this probably his final perk. Sadly, even he wasn’t allowed a beer though. Still, a nice T-bone and fries chased with chocolate brownies and ice-cream was a fitting farewell meal. For the umpteenth time he wondered how that girl’s blood-soaked blouse ended up in his barn.
In the corner of the yard a phone rang.