NanoFiction Friday

All of our stories are ultimately the same. We are born. We live. We die. The rest is detail. Some people make choices that make them wealthy. Some make choices that make them poor. And some make choices that call for punishment. Delivering it is my job.
I have lost track of those I have killed. I used to have nightmares. But after a while, the eyes of the dead blur together. The job becomes standardized, routinized, boring. I give them their final words, and if I seem cold and distant from t...